


The Second Time Around

by TwiceALady



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Happy Ending, Heartache, Mild Language, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Oblivious, Oral Sex, Pining, Post-Canon, Quests, Romance, Self-Discovery, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, True Love, does not take sequel into account, post first film canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 97,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceALady/pseuds/TwiceALady
Summary: Anna gets involved in breaking a curse on the Southern Isles. When fate throws them together, she must rely on Hans. But Hans has his own problems and needs Anna more than she needs him. In the midst of saving a kingdom, Anna can only wonder if she’s doomed to repeat past mistakes as she begins to fall for the man she shouldn’t. HANSANNA pairing.*This fic originally ran on my ff(dot)net account between May 4, 2018 - Nov 1, 2018. Posting it here so all my HA work is in one place*
Relationships: Anna/Hans (Disney)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 65





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen nor am I affiliated with Disney in any way.
> 
> This story came about by picking up bits and pieces of lore and fairy tales, and exploring the idea of love in its messy form. I’ve kept this fic in the aftermath of the first movie canon. IT DOES NOT TAKE THE SEQUEL INTO ACCOUNT. I’ve also chosen to keep with a blend of modern and historical elements, much like the world of Frozen in the movie, so if you are looking for strict 19th century prose and social norms, etc., you will not find it exclusively here.

“Well, I don’t understand why we have to go there anyway,” Anna remarked while carelessly stuffing a gown into her trunk.

“ _You_ ,” Elsa corrected, “don’t have to go at all.”

Anna snorted. “Like I’m really going to let you sail to the Southern Isles alone.”

Elsa raised her eyebrows wryly. “It’s a coronation, Anna. It’s kinda a big deal, and besides, they invited Arendelle as a sign of good faith.”

“Why not send a dignitary then? You know they just live for being all hoity toity as the queen’s representative at these kinds of events.”

“Because,” Elsa reminded, “a sign of good faith should be met by the queen herself. The Crown Prince, Vilhelm and Princess Grete are extending to us an olive branch. They are trying to mend relations between our two kingdoms.”

Neither woman needed to address why the proverbial olive branch was being offered in the first place. In fact, Anna’s room had gone uncomfortably silent as neither knew what to say about _him_.

Prince Hans.

Anna tended to shut down at the mention of his name, she knew it was why her sister was avoiding it now. And really, what could be said of the youngest Southern Isles’ prince? Certainly not that he had stolen and broken Anna’s heart all in a vicious plot to usurp the throne from Elsa. Anna had thwarted him in the end, but she would never forget the sting of his betrayal…

“Anna!”

Anna blinked at the sound of Elsa’s crisp voice, bringing her back from those dark memories. She looked up at her sister and gave her a weak smile, unsure of how many times Elsa had called her name before she responded.

Elsa’s brow wrinkled softly in concern. “You were doing it again.”

“I’m fine,” Anna mumbled.

Elsa wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure you really want to come with me? You don’t have to if—”

“—Yes!” Anna was surprised how loud her answer was. There was no way she was going to be left behind. Not this time. The last time she’d stayed behind on a trip, their parents hadn’t come back. It was unthinkable to stay behind this time. Elsa was all she had, and she’d almost lost her once. She wasn’t doing it again.

“Anna…” Elsa paused apprehensively. She seemed to be weighing whether to speak or not.

Anna stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

Elsa sighed in resignation. “There is a chance you’ll see Hans there. You already know he’s finished serving his sentence, and it _is_ his brother’s coronation.”

Anna bristled at the sound of his name spoken out loud.

“I know.” She smiled again at Elsa, doing her best to convince her that she was okay even though the smile never reached her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well,” Elsa began, eager to change the subject, “at any rate, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of new, enthusiastic, young men to dance with.”

Anna laughed. “You forgot to add, ‘ _only because I don’t dance_ ’.”

“Well, I don’t,” Elsa replied stiffly. “Why can’t ice skating be a thing anyway?”

Anna rolled her eyes. The topic of Elsa’s innate displeasure of dancing was always one Anna found amusing. “One of these days you’ll have to dance with at least one of them. I mean, do you have any idea what it’s like to have a man dance with you only because he can’t dance with your sister?”

Elsa answered with a vague shrug.

Anna grinned mischievously. She put on her best princely air, standing tall and lowering her voice to a husky, seductive timbre. “I must know, Princess, what is your sister’s favourite colour? Does she prefer poems to songs?”

Elsa burst into a fit of giggles.

“What is her favourite flower?” Anna continued. “Tell me, how can I woo your sister and garner the affection I covet so greatly?”

Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Elsa shook her head in disbelief. “They don’t really say things like that to you, do they?”

Anna raised her eyebrows and gave her a laconic stare.

“Oh God!” Elsa gasped. Her laughter quickly renewed, louder than before. “That’s why that one sent me that obnoxious bouquet of weeds!”

“ _What?_ ” Anna asked aghast, feigning shock and placing her hand up to her heart tragically. “You mean dandelions _aren’t_ your favourite flower?”

Both sisters burst out laughing.

When she had calmed down, Elsa looked seriously at Anna. “I am glad you are coming with me. I really don’t want to go alone.”

Anna was touched. In the past year since the two had reconnected, they had made a lot of headway and worked out a lot of things in their relationship, but it still meant so much to Anna to hear that Elsa needed her. She knew Elsa wouldn’t be travelling to the Southern Isles _alone_ alone—she would have her royal entourage of servants, councillors, her lady in waiting, and Kai, their royal advisor with her, but Elsa still wanted Anna with her too.

Elsa excused herself after awhile, needing to go finish her own packing, and go over the last few details with the steward before leaving.

Anna’s lady in waiting, Carol, had just entered Anna’s room when Anna heard the distinct commotion outside of the ice harvesters returning to Arendelle. Anna grew excited. Kristoff and Sven were back delivering ice! She rushed her packing, squishing and crumpling various clothing items until they fit in the trunks.

Carol tsked loudly when she saw how Anna was packing the gowns.

“Why don’t you just leave what you want to take on the bed, dear?” Carol suggested. “I’ll pack these properly.”

Anna gave the woman an embarrassed grin, and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Carol! You are a lifesaver!”

She ran down the hall, down the stairs, and out into the courtyard. “Kristoff!” she yelled, recognizing the big, blonde ice harvester immediately in the crowd. She was waving wildly when he turned and caught sight of her.

He pushed impatiently through the crowd to get to her, with Sven the reindeer, following after.

“Hey, beautiful.” He smiled softly and kissed her cheek. It was always how he greeted her, even after they had stopped being sweethearts. She hugged him back, not caring what any of the onlookers in the crowd thought. She would always have a fondness for Kristoff regardless of his station or their relationship status.

Sven bullied his way between their bodies, effectively breaking apart their hug as he eagerly awaited Anna’s attention. She laughed and gave Sven a bigger hug.

After the initial exchange of pleasantries and news, Kristoff ran his hand through his hair. “So off to the Southern Isles, I hear. I bet that’ll be _fun_.”

Anna laughed at his sarcasm. “Yeah, _so_ much better than hauling ice in the mountains without bathing in days.”

“I don’t smell anything.” Kristoff raised his arm for a sniff and grimaced. “Okay, maybe I do.”

“I missed you, you know, smell and all.”

It was Kristoff’s turn to laugh. “I missed you too.” He was looking at her with those brown eyes again, the ones that said he missed her more than just as a friend.

“You guys are back earlier than usual,” Anna commented, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, and trying to ignore the subtext to his words.

Kristoff shrugged. “Elsa sent for us, Olaf needs someone to watch over him while you guys are gone. She thought it’d be best if we had him up in the mountains where he could stay frozen without her magic sustaining him.”

Anna nodded, she remembered Elsa saying something about that a week ago while Anna was being measured for a new gown.

“We’re not here for long. Just to pick him up, then off again. I won’t even get to see you off.”

“Well, while you are here, you want to grab some desserts with me?”

Kristoff wrinkled his nose. “You know I don’t care for sweets, but how can I refuse my—er, _a_ princess?”

Anna pretended she didn’t hear the slip of tongue, and grabbed him by the hand. “To the kitchens!”

Anna had never really fallen for Kristoff as hard as he had fallen for her. She doubted that after Hans she would ever fall hard for anyone again. She had still loved Kristoff, it was just in her own, now careful way. They were sweethearts for a brief while before both realized it would never work. Anna was currently the crown princess of Arendelle, and Kristoff was an ice harvester. Their worlds couldn’t have been further apart.

Anna was always thankful that Elsa had never intervened, even though she knew that Anna couldn’t be with Kristoff forever. She had let them have their time graciously, and Anna would always cherish the time she had been granted with Kristoff. They had parted amicably, both knowing it just wasn’t meant to be. They had remained good friends to this day.

She suspected Kristoff still had romantic feelings towards her, and often debated whether it was a good idea to remain so affectionate with him. She wasn’t sure if her natural disposition around him was leading him on. Still, it was hard to be any different than what she was around him.

Anna was happier than usual to see Kristoff. She couldn’t put her finger on it or explain it, but she just needed to see him. With the Southern Isles trip forefront in her mind, perhaps she needed to be reassured that good men still existed.

It wasn’t until they were in the kitchens eating that she realized just how nervous she was to go to the Southern Isles. She could put on a façade of ‘fine’ for Elsa, but never Kristoff. Sometimes she swore he knew her better than she knew herself.

She fretted silently with the ever-growing scenarios she’d come up with in her head about what the Southern Isles trip held. What if she did see Hans? How was she even supposed to act?

“You’re nervous about seeing him again, aren’t you?” Kristoff asked between mouthfuls.

“No!” she lied, really not wanting to talk about it. She poked at her plate of sweets, suddenly their appeal gone.

Kristoff wiped his face with his sleeve. “Look, he’s the one that’s going to be nervous.”

Anna tilted her head in confusion. Kristoff had a way of diffusing her worries with his brand of bluntness. “Oh? And why is that?”

Kristoff reached for a hunk of cheese. “Because,” he said, pausing to take a bite. “Last time he saw you, you punched him in the face clean off a ship.”

Anna giggled. Kristoff always had a way of making her feel better, and calming her nerves. For lack of a better word, he was her rock. He managed to keep her grounded and self assured.

Kristoff was really the only one who could bring up the unpleasant topic of Hans and not make her feel like a complete fool. Kristoff had always maintained that Hans had been the foolish one since he had not seen what he’d had in Anna. It was nice to have someone speak of Hans as an idiot, rather than as a dangerous man. She really wished Kristoff could come with them.

“Seriously, don’t even worry about it.” Kristoff placed a friendly hand atop hers. “Even if you do see him, I doubt he’d be stupid enough to approach you.”


	2. Chapter 1

In the distance, Anna could see the famed Westergaard Castle, looming out over the ocean, poised elegantly upwards towards a dashing, picturesque cliff. She perched at the railing of the ship, watching the waves crash dramatically up against the cliff side below the castle. Tiny, rocky islands scattered the sea the closer their boat neared the main island for docking.

‘Island’ was almost a ridiculous name for the main island of the Southern Isles, it was enormous. The Southern Isles were significantly larger than any of the neighbouring kingdoms. In fact, it probably was the largest, though Anna would have to double check with Elsa on that.

The Southern Isles were much cooler than Anna had expected. Okay, not cool, cold. Anna hugged her arms, shivering against the howling ocean air. Naturally, Elsa was perfectly comfortable with the weather, but she still gave Anna a look of sympathy.

“Shall I get someone to fetch your cloak from one of the trunks?” she asked.

Anna shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Lord only knows which trunk it’s in or where that trunk even is on the ship, and we’ll be disembarking soon.”

When their ship finally did dock, they were greeted by two well dressed, dark haired men. Anna paid little attention, instead focusing on her feet. Her legs hadn’t accustomed from the sea to the land, and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was trip and fall. One of the men held out a hand to Anna to help her from the creaky, wooden gangplank and onto the dock. She grasped the hand firmly, grateful for the assistance.

Anna met the man’s gaze, intending to give her thanks, but the words stuck in her throat when she recognized his eyes. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her abrupt stop made the man think she was going to stumble, and he was quickly in front her, his free arm hovering to catch her if need be.

_Hans_.

She almost said his name out loud. Almost.

It took her only a moment to realize that while the man shared similar features to Hans, his eyes in particular, he was _not_ Hans. His age, his ink black hair, his build, his nose were all quite unlike Hans.

“Are you all right, Princess?” the man asked stiffly.

The voice was definitely not like Hans’s at all.

“S-sorry,” she apologized. She could not believe she’d briefly mistaken this guy for the traitorous man who still haunted her dreams. “Still a bit wobbly from the sea, I’m afraid.” She smiled meekly.

The man took a firmer grip on her hand in what she hoped was an attempt to keep her steady, and not to actually crush every bone she possessed in her hand.

“I think I’m all right now.” Anna wasn’t sure she was fine, but she did want her hand back.

Thankfully the man let her go.

“Prince Aksel—” he introduced,

“—and Prince Aleksander of the Southern Isles,” the other man finished.

“The fourth and fifth of the thirteen Westergaard princes,” Prince Aksel added with a grin. “Respectively.”

Both men bowed elegantly in perfect tandem, and it was then that Anna stupidly realized the two men were identical twins.

“Your majesty, Queen Elsa,” they spoke in sync, “and Princess Anna of Arendelle, the Southern Isles graciously welcomes you on this happy occasion.”

Elsa gave a slight nod of her head, accepting the welcome. “We are pleased for the invitation, and we look forward to being here in person to give our salutations and congratulations to your eldest brother.”

Anna gave a rather awkward curtsey due to the fact that she was still feeling a little uncertain on her feet. While neither prince said anything, Anna swore they exchanged a mocking smirk between themselves, as if they were silently making fun of her.

Anna’s face flushed red with embarrassment. She could only imagine what these people already thought of her, what Hans had probably told them about her. Everyone here would know her as Hans’s former fiancée. The dimwitted girl who agreed to marry him within the same day of meeting him. The girl who naively thought that love at first sight existed.

And for her it _had_ existed.

Except the feeling had not been mutual.

Anna had never admitted to anyone that she really _had_ loved Hans upon meeting him. Everyone assumed that because Hans hadn’t really loved her that she hadn’t really loved him. That what she had felt was only infatuation. Puppy Love. But that wasn’t true. She knew the difference, and she knew what she felt with Hans had been the real thing.

She had loved him.

_Still do…_

_Shut up, shut up, shut up._

_Shut._

_Up!_

Anna willed herself to stop thinking about him and her unrequited love before she started to think again about the moment everything had gone so wrong.

When he’d betrayed her in the cruelest way humanly possible.

When he had left her for de—

_Don’t go there. Do not go there. Not here, not now. Do not let these people see what he did to you._

She looked desperately to Elsa, who was the queen of putting on a show. Anna did her best to copy her sister’s authoritative posture.

_Chin up, back straight, serene expression, slow, confident steps…_

Elsa had once told her that people expected certain things from their monarchs, so there were actually two Elsas. One Elsa was the ‘normal person Elsa’ who loved sneaking chocolate at night, doing geometry, and ice skating. The other was ‘Queen Elsa’. That Elsa was regal, logical and completely composed. Elsa had said that both Elsas were still her, just different sides of the same snowflake, and depending on what any situation called for, Elsa could become either one.

Anna was still trying to figure out how to be ‘other Anna’. It wasn’t that Anna didn’t have calm, collected, even introspective moments of pure grace and charisma, it was that she never had them at the right moments. She could be the witty, brilliant mind that could talk trade routes and shipping exchange rates one moment, and the next be the tongue tied, silly girl struggling to form cohesive sentences that made sense to people. Whenever she felt flustered or nervous in front of dignitaries and royals, she looked to Elsa on how to behave.

Just like she was doing right now.

It was working. She was the epitome of a princess. All she had to do was keep it up until the coronation was over and they returned home.

* * *

Anna sat uncomfortably on a wooden pew, stuffed between her sister and the Queen of somewhere or other. The massive church was filled with people from all over. This coronation was much larger than her sister’s had been. Anna was overwhelmed by the number of people who had turned up for the event.

It shouldn’t have been surprising, the Southern Isles was a large, prosperous, and powerful kingdom. Arendelle had never had much of a relationship with them as a nation. But while Arendelle had been pretty insignificant to the Southern Isles, they had been on amicable terms until Hans had happened.

After that the relationship had been strained. The former king and queen of the Southern Isles had done very little to make amends with Arendelle. Kai had referred to their lack of an official apology, and short impersonal letters, as ‘shameful and disgraceful’ to their kingdom and station.

Elsa had never been bothered much by it. She had felt that the very little they had to with the Southern Isles, the better. Anna hadn’t understood it. Hans had tried to murder Elsa, and would have had Anna not intervened. How the Southern Isles could turn a blind eye was unheard of to Anna.

Elsa had received periodical updates concerning Hans’s punishment, a sentence that was served out in the Southern Isles navy for what Anna thought was a rather short amount of time. Elsa said it was not their concern how the Southern Isles saw fit to punish Hans, so long as he was.

Then the king had passed away.

Both sisters had been shocked when they received a personal letter from the crown prince’s wife, inviting them to the coronation of the crown prince. The letter and invitation had been polite and cordial, friendly even, and Elsa had decided that she would travel to the Southern Isles and attend the occasion.

And here they were now, sitting in a stifling hot church to see Prince Vilhelm and his wife, Princess Grete, be crowned King and Queen.

The ceremony was about to begin. Anna stood with everyone else when the rest of the Southern Isles princes filed into the room. She could barely see anything with a large, broad shouldered man standing in front of her.

If she stood on her tip toes she could make out the very tops of their heads. Prince after prince with coal black hair stopped in a line facing the audience. Anna watched uneasily until finally at the very end, breaking the trend of black, she saw a shock of auburn hair.

Hans.

Her mouth went dry. She was both anxious and nauseous to see him. She felt Elsa’s hand gently rest on her shoulder. Elsa already knew what this must be like for her. The small gesture of physical contact was enough support for Anna. She could do this. She could see him again and be fine.

It wasn’t like he’d notice her sitting here in a crowd this big anyway. He’d have to be systematically searching her out, which he wouldn’t be. That would be stupid. She meant nothing to Hans. He had made that very, frighteningly clear. Hans probably had no idea she was even here. She now felt less anxious, and turned her attention to the tops of the heads of the crown prince and his wife as they approached the center podium.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they could be seated again. Anna fought the urge to slouch in her seat even if it would have been the most comfortable way to sit. A princess did not slouch. She sat straight and still, poised and elegant. She could hear her stomach rumbling. God, she was hungry. She heard Elsa stifle a giggle at the sound of her growling stomach. Anna smiled a little to herself. Trying to forget she was hungry, she tilted her head sideways, leaning a bit into Elsa so she could see past the large man in front.

She couldn’t see Hans at all from her sitting position. She convinced herself that it was for the best. Seeing him wouldn’t change anything between them, and it would only remind her of their past. She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to catch a glimpse of him in the first place. It was a morbid fascination she supposed. One that held no benefits to her well being.

Perhaps luck was on her side, and she should count her lucky stars. Elsa had warned her there would be a chance that he would be here, and if she only saw the top of his head for a moment the entire time she was visiting the Southern Isles, that would be most ideal.

When the ceremony finished, the bishop that had conducted it announced the instructions for the greeting procession and introductions for the ball that followed. Anna stifled a yawn through the lengthy order of things. Royal occasions always had so many rules and formalities. Most were fairly standard, though each kingdom and duchy had their own individual way of doing things as well, and protocols were given beforehand so everyone acted accordingly.

The bishop’s voice boomed over the crowd. “It is custom in the Southern Isles for all royalty to be introduced upon entrance and meet each member of the Southern Isles royal family.”

Anna’s face fell. “Wait, what?” she whispered to Elsa in a panic. “They mean just the king and queen, right? Not like _all of them_ all of them?”

“No, I believe we are meeting them all.” Elsa clasped Anna’s hand tightly. “I’ll be right there with you, and it won’t be long. Just a quick introduction, they have a lot of people to move through the line to get the ball underway.”

Nothing could be done about it. Her good luck had turned on her. Anna would be seeing Hans face to face after all, even if it was only briefly. It would be poor manners, and reflect badly on Arendelle if she refused to meet the customs of the Southern Isles while here as a guest.

She sighed morosely. “We are never going to get to eat.”

Elsa smiled slightly. “There’s my girl.”

* * *

“Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and her sister, Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle.”

Anna jumped at the sound of their names. She could hear the sudden burst of quiet, curious murmurs that ruptured throughout the crowd already gathered in the ballroom just beyond the parlour where she stood. Everyone knew who they were. Her stomach lurched. She suddenly felt dizzy and short of breath. Everyone would be watching her. Anna was sure she was going to throw up.

With a reassuring smile, Elsa gave Anna’s hand a tight squeeze. “Here we go, just follow my lead.”

Elsa moved gracefully and at ease into the room, every bit the queen she was. Anna wished she could be like her sister. Elsa was picture perfect, and had the silent awe of the crowd to prove it. Whenever Elsa made an entrance, she left people speechless. Anna watched Elsa meet King Vilhelm, and graciously accept his bow and a kiss on the hand. Anna’s eyes widened, her level of comfort dipping even lower. Hand kissing? Why had nobody said that was a thing? Oh God, Hans was going to kiss her hand…

Anna took a deep breath. She could do this, hand kissing and all. She could face _him_ for mere seconds and then be on her way. She stepped forward and followed after Elsa. She swore the murmurs started again, and much louder too, when she entered the room.

_Ignore it. Just go. Back straight, chin up, serene expression, slow steps._

Anna moved as though someone else was controlling her. The ‘other Anna’ was here. She walked down the receiving line from brother to brother, meeting each one with all the poise of a sophisticated, elegant princess. Each face she met was familiar with some aspect that was reminiscent to her of Hans, but never quite like him. Each man’s green eyes reminded her of what was to come when her count of the brothers reached thirteen. After each brother introduced themselves she ticked the number off in her head, dreading the end tally.

“Prince Stefan.” 

_Ten._

_“_ Prince Klaus.”

_Eleven._

“Prince Lennart.”

_Twelve._

Time stopped.

A hush fell over the crowd, and the ballroom had gone eerily silent. It hadn’t gone that uncomfortably quiet when Elsa had greeted him, Anna was sure of it.

“Anna.”

Her name had barely made a sound on his lips. _If_ he’d said her name at all, and she hadn’t just imagined it. She wasn’t entirely sure.

_Thirteen._

‘Other Anna’ was gone in an instant, and she was just Anna now. She stood immobile in front of him, staring at him like she was some rabbit paralyzed by fear upon seeing a fox. For his part, he made no movement either, and stared back at her. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, and she hoped to God he couldn’t read the one on hers.

He looked exactly the same as she remembered him. The hair, the eyes, the nose, even the light dusting of freckles that made him look more boyish than devil—all the same. It was as if time or their past hadn’t touched him at all. He was still the most handsome man Anna had ever seen in her life even though she knew he was also the cruelest. She could hear the heavy pounding of her heart in the dead quiet silence. It drummed in her ears, faster and faster the longer she stood staring at him.

The brother beside him, Prince… _something_ …Anna had already forgotten his name, cleared his throat irritably and jerked his elbow sharply into Hans’s arm. It effectively broke the spell, and Hans moved to take her hand. He hesitated when Anna, still frozen in place, made no effort to present her hand.

Instead of taking her limp hand and quickly kissing it, he dropped to his knee and bowed. Bowed far more deeply than what was necessary. The ridiculously grand bow for a mere princess in a room full of higher royals made Anna’s cheeks flush in embarrassment, and suddenly she was able to move her body again. She snapped out of her paralysis almost instantaneously. Trying desperately to downplay the moment, she gave the best demure curtsey she could muster, and then hurried away from him as fast as she could without actually running.


	3. Chapter 2

“You did good.” Elsa comforted Anna gently.

“It was awful,” Anna conceded as she tried putting food on a plate with shaking hands. The ball was now underway, and Anna still hadn’t been able to fully recover from meeting Hans face to face. “Everyone was staring. And—and that _bow_! What was he _thinking_?”

“You’re overreacting. It wasn’t that bad…or noticeable.”

Anna shot Elsa a scathing look.

“Okay,” Elsa placated. “It was a little bad, but it wasn’t anything people are going to focus on, or talk about.”

Just then a tightly huddled group of young ladies passed by, stopping a few feet from the dessert table where Anna stood with Elsa.

“That’s the one right there, the strawberry blonde—don’t look! Don’t look!” One hissed loud enough for Anna to hear.

The other three girls failed to be inconspicuous, and turned to stare at Anna.

“How embarrassing for her. I’d never show my face in society again if _that one_ had ever paid that much attention to me.”

Anna rolled her eyes. _Great._

Hushed giggles.

“Didn’t you know? She was actually _engaged_ to _him_.”

The giggles turned to shocked gasps.

“No way! That is simply _repulsive_.”

More giggles.

Anna finally had just about enough. There was no way she was going to stand here and be gossiped about within earshot. She opened her mouth to give these prattling little twits a piece of her mind when someone else did it for her.

“I assume you ladies are gawking at the Queen of Arendelle, and her sister, the Crown Princess, because you are flustered in the presence of women far above your own station,” a crisp voice cut in from behind the girls. “And not, in fact, gossiping. Because that would be uncouth and very unladylike.”

This time their gasps were horrified when the interloper stepped forward.

“Y-your majesty!” The girls gave hurried, mortified curtsies.

“Perhaps the time of such young ladies would be better spent filling their dance cards, rather than spilling their words.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Of-of course.” The shamefaced group of girls hurried off before anyone else noticed their public chastising by the newly crowned Queen of the Southern Isles.

“I deeply apologize for that,” Queen Grete said with a slight bow as she stepped towards Anna and Elsa. “The Duke of Vakretta’s daughters can be a bit unbecoming at social events.”

Elsa smiled politely. “Young ladies can be foolish at times. There was no harm done, though I’m sure they will think twice before gossiping in polite society again.”

The two women shared a quick laugh together.

Anna kept her mouth shut, gritting her teeth. _No_ , no harm done at all, just a giant butcher knife to her pride and her dignity. She was the topic of gossip at tonight’s ball, and those four insipid women had just proved it. Anna now felt as though every whisper and side glance was about her.

Perhaps she and Elsa could leave the party early. They could make up some excuse of a long travel, or heading out at sunrise for home. Something, _anything_ that would get Anna the hell out of this room, and away from all these people.

Getting Elsa’s attention in hopes of broaching that idea proved useless. Elsa was engaged in conversation with the new Southern Isles queen. Apparently they were discussing the queen’s pregnancy. Elsa was even invited to place her hand on the queen’s swollen belly, which she did eagerly.

“Oh!” She laughed in delight. “I felt a kick!”

Anna stood awkwardly beside the two women, feeling just a little bit left out. She hadn’t expected Elsa to be so social. She felt stupid about it. It was only natural that Elsa would be in ‘Queen Elsa’ mode tonight. It was important for Arendelle and the Southern Isles to mend their relationship, and Queen Grete and Elsa seemed to get along quite fine. It boded well for the two kingdoms to once again have amicable ties.

“Anna.” Queen Grete turned her attention to Anna, and grabbed her hand warmly. “Your sister tells me that you are an extraordinary dancer.”

Anna blushed and waved off the compliment. “She only says that because she can’t dance. I’m fair at best.”

“I bet you could give Lennart a run for his money. That one is always bragging about his abilities on the ballroom floor.”

“Wait, what?” Anna panicked as Grete began waving a man over to them. She shot Elsa a worried look only to see Elsa stifling a grin with her hand. This was not happening. Not again. The last time Elsa had been involved in Anna’s dance partners it had been with the atrocious Duke of Weselton, and his appalling dance skills.

Before she could protest, the gentleman in question was at her side, and sweeping her away onto the dancefloor. She recognized him as one of the younger Westergaard princes, but she had no idea which one. Aside from Hans, they all looked so similar.

“Um, I’m sorry but which one—” Anna began.

“—Prince Lennart,” he supplied coolly, flashing her a quick grin. “Number twelve.”

Anna found it amusing that every brother seemed to need to give their birth order to help with their identification. People must have been confusing them as one for the other twelve all of their lives. She didn’t count Hans. With his red hair and taller, slender frame, he was easily recognizable amongst the brood of black hair, and stocky physiques. Anna was actually stunned at just how different Hans was physically to his brothers. He definitely looked the odd one out.

The music started, and Lennart quickly led Anna into a polka. He was actually really good. Anna had little trouble keeping pace with him and matching his strong lead. She found herself genuinely having fun. She always forgot how exhilarating it felt to move about the dancefloor, and get lost in the music and the steps. It had been quite a while since she had danced with someone who was a capable dancer. In fact, she hadn’t danced with somebody this good since…

She forced herself to keep her face on Lennart’s and not turn to see if she could catch sight of Hans in the crowd.

She found she missed having a partner that could talk and dance well at the same time. Lennart, it turned out, was not really interested in talk. His face was impassive and his focus was on leading her grandly across the floor. Anna felt he was a bit of a show off.

After a length of time, the song ended. Generally, that cued a new dance partner, but Lennart did not let her go.

“Another turn?” he asked her abruptly.

“I—” Anna barely had time to answer before he actually signalled the band to begin playing. The rest of dancers were hardly matched up yet. Anna frowned, Lennart’s brusque manners held no appeal at all to her, and despite how well he danced, she was eager for a new partner.

He led her into a polka mazurka this time, and again Anna had no problems keeping up with him. If she didn’t know better, she was beginning to think that the prince was trying to show her up.

Now that she thought of it, Queen Grete did mention that Lennart was something of a braggart on the dancefloor. It was a bit much to try and throw your partner off balance though, which Anna was pretty sure was exactly what he was trying to do with his change in tempo and errant steps. Still, Anna kept up and moved flawlessly.

When the dance had finished, those on the sidelines clapped. Their performance had been rather attention grabbing, if only because of Lennart over-complicating the dance. Out of breath, the prince turned to her, staring at her with an intense look on his face. “One more.”

Anna had never been one to back down from a challenge, and Lennart wasn’t asking her to dance, he was challenging her to. She hadn’t lost her breath, and had barely broken a sweat. She could certainly go another turn. She smiled civilly and took Lennart’s hand for a third time.

Again, Anna had no trouble whatsoever matching the prince. She probably could have danced nonstop all night. She loved to dance, and had always had boundless amounts of energy whenever dancing was in order. Elsa had said that it was because Anna was making up for all the times she hadn’t been able to dance at parties. She was probably right. Half the fun of dancing for Anna was just to be around other people doing the same thing. She loved nothing more than being part of a group.

At the end of the song, Lennart had beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and he was now panting. He was doing his best to put on airs.

“Another,” he demanded rudely, barely able to choke out the one word between breaths.

“You’ve already had her for three straight turns!” another of the brothers called from the floor. “Let someone else!”

Lennart glared in the direction of the comment.

“Fine.” He rescinded. He gave a curt bow to Anna and sulked off. It was beyond rude and incredibly poor mannered.

Anna had little time to dwell on the matter, as dance requests eagerly flew in her direction. Anna spent the next three dances on the floor before she could politely excuse herself back to her sister’s side.

As Anna approached Elsa, she could see King Vilhelm was now standing beside his wife. Both were talking to Elsa with serious expressions on their faces. The trio were standing further apart from the rest of the guests, and the two guards standing nearby implied the conversation was of a more private nature.

Anna slowed her steps. Elsa was nodding to the pair with a slight frown on her face. Anna wasn’t sure if she should be interrupting what looked like a very important discussion. The guards hadn’t stopped her as she passed them. She hesitated venturing closer, but by lingering too long she caught King Vilhelm’s attention.

“Ah, there she is!” He greeted her with a smile and a warm hand, which Anna gingerly took. She immediately noticed both Grete and Elsa change their expressions to match the king. “Had we known Arendelle had such a magnificent dancer, I would have had father invite you to our balls years ago. What a sight to behold!”

Anna thanked the king for his compliment as another couple of guests approached them. The king and queen excused themselves, and Anna was left alone with Elsa.

“Well, they are certainly an interesting pair,” Elsa remarked with a lowered voice. She handed Anna a glass of champagne from a server passing by with a tray. “I’ve some news that might please you.”

Anna gave Elsa a curious look before sipping her drink.

“Queen Grete mentioned that Hans is only here for tonight. Apparently, King Vilhelm is sending him off to the monastery tomorrow to take his vows and become a brother of the church.”

Anna almost spit out her drink. “Hans is going to be a _monk_?”

“Not by choice it seems. Vilhelm is not thrilled to keep lining Hans’s pockets with his allowance, and he denied Hans’s request to continue with the royal navy.”

“Is that what you guys were discussing so seriously?”

“I… no.” Elsa paused and glanced around before answering quietly, “They were wondering…well, _hoping_ that I had some knowledge or experience with curses.”

“Curses?” Anna frowned.

“If I understood correctly, Vilhelm believes his father may have made a very unsavoury bargain with a witch or a sorceress in order to gain a prosperous reign of the Southern Isles. He says the kingdom’s luck has taken a very strange and unexpected downturn since the death of his father.”

“Don’t kingdoms naturally ebb and flow through a change in rule? Why would they think there is a curse?”

“That’s the weird part. See, the queen dowager—his mother, is quite mad and has been saying stuff lately about a curse, and a broken mirror, and… _frozen hearts_.”

“Well, if she’s mad…”

“I’ve arranged with King Vilhelm to meet the queen dowager tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” Anna was puzzled, so a crazy lady was talking about frozen hearts. What could Elsa possibly do? She wasn’t a witch or a sorceress. She just had ice powers. “Nobody here appears to be freezing.”

Elsa didn’t answer immediately. “Anna, do you remember what the last thing you said to Hans was before he was imprisoned?”

How could she forget? Anna had been playing every interaction she’d ever had with Hans over and over in her head for the past year, trying to get some sort of closure or _something_ out of it.

“I told him that the only heart that was frozen was his own.”

“And you don’t find it strange that his mother would be rambling on about a curse and frozen hearts?”

“Hans could have told his mother anything—”

“Grete said Hans hasn’t been in contact with his mother since he returned. He hasn’t even _seen_ her, let alone talked to her. Apparently, they have never been on particularly good terms.”

“And how do we know Queen Grete isn’t lying?”

“I just know,” Elsa replied.

“And I just knew Hans was exactly as he said he was,” Anna countered.

“Grete isn’t a Westergaard.”

“She is through marriage.”

“Okay, fine,” Elsa answered peevishly, before softening her speech. “But they are _scared_. I believe in that. King Vilhelm was trembling. Can you imagine a man that intimidating, trembling with fear, begging you for help to break a curse?”

“So you want to stay here and what? Investigate?” The more Anna talked, the more ridiculous this was all sounding. Usually she was the one following harebrained ideas, not Elsa. The fact that Elsa—logical, diplomatic, level headed Elsa—was suspicious and thought there might be something sinister going on in the Southern Isles made Anna feel uneasy.

“Please, Anna.” Elsa took both of Anna’s hands in hers. “I know you wanted to leave first thing tomorrow, but I really think that if there is something going on here, and I can help…”

“Okay.” Anna shrugged. Elsa rarely pleaded with her on anything, and Anna was hard pressed to deny Elsa anything she asked of her anyway. “If it’s that important to you, we’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not take the novelization ‘A Frozen Heart’ as canon. There were too many inconsistencies in the details, and too much shoe-horning of events to make it feel believable. I am not that big of a fan of the book, though I do own a copy. However, it did offer up some interesting ideas regarding Hans and his upbringing/lifestyle, such as Hans being sure he was meant for the monastery. It inspired me to explore that idea in my own work.


	4. Chapter 3

Once Anna agreed to stay longer with her sister in the Southern Isles, there was no more talk of curses and frozen hearts. Elsa preferred to keep the rest of Anna’s questions and concerns private and away from prying ears. They would continue their discussion on the matter after they retired for the night.

Anna still felt that there was little to talk about. It seemed very unlikely to her that the Southern Isles was under some sort of curse, but then Anna hadn’t been the one talking to the new king and queen. Elsa seemed to believe the possibility of something going on, and that was really enough for Anna. She trusted Elsa above anyone else.

Her thoughts were cut off when she saw a familiar man approaching her. Groaning, she quickly took a gulp of champagne. She really did not want to contend with his arrogance again.

“Can’t you take this one?” she pleaded under her breath to Elsa.

Too late. Lennart was already there, addressing Anna formally, “Princess Anna, would you please do me the great honour of dancing the royal dance of the evening with me?”

Anna couldn’t believe his sudden change of manners. He’d been unbelievably rude and boorish to her not even an hour ago. “I—”

“—I’m afraid my sister is not familiar with that dance,” Elsa interrupted kindly.

“Oh?” Lennart looked surprised and spoke to Anna, “It’s a group dance, a combination of quadrilles and lines which pairs off into a formal waltz. It is the highlight of a Southern Isles ball. An exceptional dancer like yourself should pick it up rather quickly.” Lennart clearly was not taking no for an answer. “With me as your lead, we’ll steal the spotlight.”

At that moment, King Vilhelm’s voice boomed loudly over the ballroom. “Ladies and gentleman, friends, and honoured guests, it is with great pleasure that I introduce the next dance. As many of you know, it has been a long-standing tradition in the Southern Isles to have the dance of the twelve Westergaard princes. While I will no longer be partaking in the dance myself this year, it will still be a marvelous spectacle as always.”

_Twelve princes?_ Anna was sure she had heard correctly. Except if it had always been danced with only twelve, what happened to the thirteenth prince?

“Come on, Anna!” Lennart eagerly grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the dancefloor. “It’s starting.”

Anna gave Elsa a helpless look as Lennart dragged her off. She had not wanted to dance in the first place, and now Anna was absolutely sure she didn’t want to. The quadrille group Lennart was leading her to was the same one in which Hans was standing in.

Her stomach instantly felt queasy and giddy all at the same time. She had not caught sight of Hans all night once the party had started, and now here he was, much too close for comfort. Anna took only a slight satisfaction in seeing that his partner was one of the Duke of Vakretta’s daughters, the very same little chit that proclaimed she’d never show her face in society again if Hans ever paid attention to her.

Once all twelve pairs were positioned and ready, the band began to play and the dance started. Lennart led Anna into the quadrille, which was fairly basic and familiar to her. She’d been in plenty of group dances before, and most were pretty standard in their move set. She should have been perfectly at ease in such a simple dance. Except Hans was the dancer next to her.

The start of the dance required her to hold his hand so that the four pairs began in a friendly circle, then as the dance carried on they would switch partners, the women spinning around and into the arms of the next male. Whether Anna liked it or not, once Lennart finished twirling her, she’d be passed off to Hans. She would be dancing with him briefly, and depending on how many turns the quadrille took, she might be dancing with him a few times more than she’d like.

The moment Lennart let her go and she was in Hans’s arms, her body remembered him. She could have been blindfolded, never knowing he was the man beside her, and she still would have known it was him the moment he took her in his arms. She dared a quick peek at his face, using only her eyes to glance up. He looked straight ahead and above her, using his height to avoid eye contact. She wondered if he had felt it too, that pull to their past.

As quickly as the moment had come, it was gone as Anna spun into the arms of the next prince. The quadrille carried on, and Anna was held by Hans three more times before she was back with Lennart and moving out of the quadrille formation into a line dance with all twelve of the dancing couples.

“See?” Lennart encouraged as they moved together through the line. “I told you, you’d be able to pick it up quick. We do two more passes like this down the line, break off into a few spins, switch partners once more, then we meet back up to move into the waltz.”

Anna nodded, and continued to dance. She could see why the twelve dancing pairs would be such a treat to the ball guests, especially with all the princes in one dance…well, not all. _Twelve_ of the princes, she corrected herself. Vilhelm had said this was his first year not partaking in the dance, which meant that in the past years, another prince had been excluded. Anna didn’t need to guess which prince had been left out.

Hans was definitely the odd brother out. He was a good few inches taller than his siblings, and aside from having the same green eyes, he shared no other similar colouring to his brothers. Nor did he share their build.

While she didn’t think it was really fair, she suspected that Hans had been excluded from the dance prior years because the dance looked much more splendid with all the similar princes moving together in an even number. Hans was able to partake in the dance this year by default. With Vilhelm crowned king, now there really were only twelve Westergaard princes with the inclusion of Hans.

And speaking of Hans, Anna was being passed off to him again. He still didn’t look at her, and stared stiffly ahead. It was fine with Anna; it wasn’t like they really had much to say to each other in terms of idle talk.

And it wasn’t like she was tipping her face up to make eye contact with him either. She’d glance up at him through her eyelashes if only for a morbid curiosity to see if she could make out what he was thinking. Surely the absurdity of the situation was on his mind too.

If someone had told her that a year later she’d be in a ballroom having a civil dance with Hans, she would have laughed in disbelief. Yet, here she was in his arms again, pretending that she wasn’t bothered, pretending that she didn’t like it, and pretending that she was impartial to the whole thing.

Hans led her closer to Lennart, cueing Anna that the final switch of partners would be taking place. Hans spun her around one last time, then let her go.

Only Lennart hadn’t taken her hand. He had moved past her with the now giggling Vakretta girl.

_Wait, what?_

Panicked, Anna looked at Hans. For the first time all evening, he had an expression on his face that she could read. For a brief second, he had frowned in confusion and his eyes sparked with anger. Before she could blink, he moved. Hans recovered her quickly, pulling her strongly back into his arms, and positioned himself for the waltz.

Anna was still unsure what had happened. She was supposed to be with Lennart. Upset that something had gotten messed up, she did her best to try and look at what the other couples were doing to make sure she was still moving properly with the group. She’d lost track of Lennart in the sea of black haired princes and swirling dresses.

“He did it on purpose, you know,” Hans said blandly, speaking to her for the first time all evening.

“What?” Anna snapped her attention back to Hans, startled to hear his voice, and see him looking right at her.

“Lennart,” Hans clarified. “He didn’t take you back on purpose.”

It was then that Anna caught sight of Lennart. He was watching her over the shoulder of that idiotic, giggling girl. When Anna met his eyes, he gave her the nastiest sneer Anna had ever seen in her life. With a smug satisfaction, and hint of arrogance on his face, he deliberately turned away from Anna.

Flabbergasted, she turned her attention back to Hans. “Why would he do that?”

Hans looked at her with mild disbelief. “Because he’s petty, and an asshole.”

“I-I didn’t do anything—”

“—Oh, you didn’t?” Hans chuckled. “You were better than him at something.”

Anna gaped at Hans. She could scarcely believe anyone would do something so awful simply because she danced better than them. Lennart had made sure she was stuck with Hans on purpose, knowing full well what her history with him was. Lennart had wanted to see her in distress, wanted to see her humiliated in a dance, and what better dance than the pinnacle of the ball? And what better way to do it than have her end up in Hans’s arms? It was almost too unreal for her to fathom. It was so needlessly _mean_.

“Look,” Hans said with a softness to his voice that Anna had forgotten existed. “No one here expects you to dance with me. No one will fault you either if you walk away right now. In fact, this whole thing is going to be blamed on me anyway, so don’t worry about it. Go back to your sister.”

“No.” The word escaped her lips, and surprised even her. What was she doing? Hans had just given her an out. She didn’t need to endure this miserable prank any longer.

Hans titled his head and looked at her with interest. Obviously, he had expected her to just leave him on the dancefloor in the middle of the waltz.

“I refuse to give him the satisfaction of winning,” Anna stated firmly.

Hans gave a slight shrug, and a small half smile. “You always were delightfully unpredictable.”

Anna rolled her eyes, refusing to fall for his charm. “Just dance.”

He grinned. “You know we’ve just become the talk of the ball, right?”

“We already were.” Anna resigned. “And what do you care anyway?”

“I don’t. I thought you did.”

Anna squared her jaw. “Well, I don’t.”

He was still smiling at her with that stupid, little grin of his. She didn’t want him to be like this, like how he was before he slipped off his mask. She didn’t want to be reminded of all the things she actually did like about him. What she needed to remember was the monster, not the man. She needed to remember all the things she despised about him, all the heartless things he was capable of, but it was difficult when she was in his arms. Hans had always been, and probably would always be, her favourite dance partner. He seemed to enjoy dancing just as much as her, and for the same reasons.

Hans snickered quietly. “He’s looking at us, positively livid.”

Anna grinned a little herself. “Serves him right.”

“I imagine he expected you so distraught that you’d flee the dance floor in tears.”

“I’ve endured far worse from you than a dance.”

His smile grew tight. “I suppose you have.”

The conversation abruptly came to a halt. Anna was sorry she’d said it. She should have just enjoyed the moment, if one could call what she was doing with Hans enjoyment.

She argued that she was just keeping her head on straight this time. She needed the verbal reminder of what Hans was, and she needed him to know that she had not forgotten. And it wasn’t as though he’d begged for her forgiveness, or even apologized for his past indiscretions either.

Hans was dangerous, she knew that better than anyone else. Just because dancing with him was the most fun she’d had in awhile, didn’t mean she could let him weasel his way back into her heart, especially after she’d spent the past year trying to expel the last remaining traces of him.

As the song played on, Hans danced beautifully and boldly with her. He swept her around the floor in one of the grandest waltzes she’d ever danced. It didn’t feel like dancing with Lennart at all, even though Lennart had the same elaborate, showy style of dancing. If Hans was showing off, it wasn’t for the attention of the crowd. It was for his own pleasure. Every so often, when she made the mistake of catching his eye, he’d flash her that grin, or raise a cheeky eyebrow. He seemed to have forgotten her words, dancing like it was his last.

It probably was.

The thought jarred her for a moment. He was being sent to the monastery tomorrow. A life of the cloth awaited him. Anna just couldn’t see it. Hans would never fit the dull, sanctimonious lifestyle. He was too vibrant, too ambitious for such an existence.

“I heard you are to be a monk,” Anna started carefully, not looking directly at him.

“Ah, yes, of course you would have heard.” He pulled her dangerously close, a move that would surely be construed as licentious to the onlooking crowd. He brought his face closer towards her, and Anna was sure she heard scandalized gasping from the spectators. Anna dared to defy propriety and tipped her face up to meet his eyes.

She’d forgotten how intense his gaze could be, and how recklessly it made her heart beat. His gloved hand tightened its grip around her waist, sending delicious shivers up her spine. He gave a devilish wink before leaning in even closer to whisper in her ear. It was all kinds of inappropriate for such a social setting, and Anna felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“Of course,” he whispered, his voice caressing her earlobes delicately. “Vilhelm would have you believe that becoming a brother of the cloth is a decision based solely on the merits of absolving my sins and saving me. While in actuality, it’s simply a ruse to recover coin my miser brother thinks he needs.”

“Why not the navy? I’d heard—”

His throaty chuckle cut her off. Anna closed her eyes. She couldn’t handle his warm breath against her neck.

“And risk me doing better than my elder brothers?” He clicked his tongue. “Oh, the very idea of me remaining in the navy is frightening beyond belief to at least four of them.” His voice mocked bitterly. “Could you imagine? Little, useless Hans outranking one of them? _No, no_ , far better to send him off to the monastery for a life of obscurity.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hans pulled back from her in surprise. “What?”

Anna hesitated, not sure what else to say, and not entirely sure why she felt sorry for him in the first place. He certainly didn’t deserve her sympathy. “I’m sorry you are being sent to the monastery. I know that I shouldn’t care, and I know that what I think doesn’t matter to you, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you won’t get your chance to do something great.”

Hans stared at her wide eyed. He quickly cleared his throat and glanced away. His body stiffened and he shifted back into a more rigid waltz. “I—uh…thanks, Anna.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the waltz. Anna desperately wanted to say something, anything to him, but she couldn’t find her voice. So they danced together through all the silent words neither would ever say to the other.

She would never admit it out loud, but secretly she was happy that she was able to dance with Hans instead of Lennart. She was happy too that she would be Hans’s last dance. She couldn’t explain it, nothing about Hans should make her happy. She felt guilty that he did. A year later, and he still had a hold over her, still held sway over her heart. She knew it was wrong to feel the way she did. Perhaps now she had finally gotten her closure, and could put the lingering thoughts she held of him to rest.

The music came to an end, and Hans pulled away, giving her a very courtly bow as if he was a gentleman of high standing, and not the blackest of rogues. This time, he didn’t hesitate to take her hand to his lips and kiss her, letting his mouth linger longer than modesty would allow. Pushing the act further, he kept his eyes focused on hers the entire length of the kiss. She was sure Elsa was going to have a very frank discussion with her on social decency after this. Anna had allowed Hans far too many liberties in his familiarity with her all in the span of one dance.

It was fitting that the clock struck midnight, a sound reminder that Anna’s fairy tale dance had come to an end. It was time to wake up, shake off the magic, and remember that in real life this prince had never really loved her.

Hans had barely let go of her hand, and she hadn’t even fully turned her back on him before the room grew significantly colder, and the screaming started.


	5. Chapter 4

The ballroom had grown cold—much too cold. Simultaneously, all of the Westergaard princes and the king suddenly collapsed to the floor, their bodies going rigid. Ice had begun to spill out from beneath the fallen men, spreading in its sharp, elaborate patterns across the floor.

It took Anna a moment to make sense of what she was seeing; the Westergaard men were freezing. Anna watched in horror as a sick blue tone crept over their faces, followed quickly by tiny crystals of frost.

She remembered too late that she had just turned away from Hans.

“Hans!” Anna spun around to see Hans in the same predicament as his brothers. She clamoured towards him, slipping ungracefully on the frozen floor. He wasn’t moving. The same horrifying ice that she’d seen cover his brothers covered him.

She dropped to her knees beside his lifeless body. Having no idea what else to do, she rolled him over to his back. Seeing his face, she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. He looked like a corpse. Whatever he was to her or had been, she certainly hadn’t wished this on him.

She squeaked in repulsion seeing the ice crystals begin to move up over his face. Reacting as if he had a bug crawling on him, she reached out and brushed her hand against his bare cheek, wiping away the growing frost. The moment her skin touched his, he moved. The unexpected gasp for breath, and sudden heaving of his chest startled Anna so badly she fell over backwards.

“Hans!” She scrambled upright and lunged towards him. Grabbing his face in both hands, she inspected him. He stared at her bewildered, but alive. She kept his face in her palms, turning his head slowly this way and that, relief washing over her. The ice was disappearing, and his colour was returning back to normal.

Dread sunk back in when she heard someone cry out, “It’s that witch-queen from Arendelle! She did this!”

“No!” Anna heard herself shout amongst the chaos. Elsa wouldn’t do this; Elsa wasn’t capable of this. Her sister would never—

She hastily let go of Hans. She had to get to Elsa. Anna looked around wildly. She couldn’t see Elsa from her position on the floor with all the disorder in the ballroom. She stood up, trying to search through the crowd. Having no luck spotting her sister, she made her way across the frozen floor to where Elsa had been standing before the dance.

It was proving to be a difficult task to navigate through the anarchy. People were screaming and rushing for the doors. There was so much yelling, so much shrieking. People were shoving each other, people were slipping and falling, skirts were being tripped over…it was bedlam. People should have been able to escape the ballroom, yet the crowd didn’t seem to dissipate at all.

“Try the balcony!” someone screamed in a panic, cueing Anna that they were trapped in the ballroom. The doors had probably been frozen shut.

Before Anna knew it, a large crowd barrelled towards her. She was going to be caught up in the hysterical crowd if she didn’t move. It would take her forever to find Elsa if she was trapped in the frightened mob.

Moving too quickly, she lost her footing and slipped. Fear gripped her instantly. She was going fall. She’d never be able to get back on her feet in time to avoid the rushing crowd. She’d be trampled. Anna closed her eyes and braced herself for the worst.

She was roughly plucked from the air in mid fall by a strong arm that snaked around her waist, yanking her out of the way so fast it made her stomach lurch. The mob of people rushed past her towards the balcony, just missing her. She could feel the whoosh of air from the moving crowd rustle her skirts and blow her bangs to the side.

Seconds later, they were rushing back, the balcony proving to be a useless escape. Anna was pulled to safety against a wall before her saviour let her go. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Hans.

She was about to turn and thank him when the laughter started. It was loud, malicious, and as sharp as it was cold. The ballroom went silent at the sound. People stopped, confused, looking to see where the sound was coming from. Even Anna found herself standing on her tiptoes to see if she could find the source of the laugher.

It took only a moment or two to see the person who matched the sound. Really with the presence the woman commanded, Anna felt like she should have noticed her right away. In fact, Anna was quite positive this woman had not been here earlier. She would have remembered seeing such a terrifying and ethereal woman. Everybody would have.

She was not much older than Anna, probably around Elsa’s age, with loose, dark red hair and the whitest skin Anna had ever seen. She was dressed in the most alluring shade of blue, and in a cut of dress Anna had never seen before.

“Up and at ‘em, boys!” The woman gave a severe snap of her wrist, and all at once the frozen bodies of the princes and the king rose on command. It was grotesque in its own right, because unlike when Hans awoke, the rest of the Westergaard men did not thaw first. Their complexions remained that of corpses, and each was still covered in the fine dusting of frost that Anna had found so appalling.

The frozen royals moved stiffly, and lumbered towards the woman to line up behind her in a militant manner. “That’s much better,” she crooned. “Thirteen frozen hearts in lieu of the payment I was denied. The deal has been broken, the kingdom of the Southern Isles has failed to uphold its end of the bargain.” Her eyes narrowed, and a slick smile spread across her face. “Unless…”

Anna turned her head to follow the woman’s gaze.

Elsa.

Anna pulled away from the wall, intent on getting to her sister before this witch did. Hans caught her by the hand and jerked her back. She was surprised to feel the warmth of his bare hand and not his soft kid gloves. At some point, for whatever reason, he’d removed them.

She shot him a dirty look, about to give him a piece of her mind, but he shook his head silently at her, his eyes begging her to stay put. Anna bit her lip; against her better judgement, she stayed quiet and stayed still.

The woman approached Elsa slowly. Anna watched as her sister tensed, ready to fight if need be.

The witch grinned. “Yes, I see this will do nicely, an exchange will be made. What are you, in your final month now?”

Anna stared dumbly. She had been mistaken. The witch had not been looking at Elsa, she’d been looking at the woman who was standing behind Elsa.

Queen Grete.

Appalled, Queen Grete clutched her belly defensively. “You’re not taking my baby!”

The woman gave the same piercing laugh that had silenced the ballroom earlier. “You can’t stop me.”

“But I can.” Elsa moved directly in between Queen Grete and the woman, Elsa’s hands already freezing with her magic. Anna hadn’t dared to breathe as she watched her sister step forward to defend Grete. Elsa had never looked more terrifying.

The woman laughed harder. “Oh, let’s finish this with a bit of irony, shall we? I’ve never been one for showy displays of power, but this occasion begs for it. Can you compel a man to do your bidding, little snow queen? Because I can.”

Elsa stiffened with caution.

The woman flicked her wrist again and barked the word like an order, “Thirteen!”

Only nothing happened.

The room remained quiet and still.

Anna frowned, watching carefully.

“Thirteen!” the witch ordered again. This time impatiently.

Nothing.

The woman spun around to stare at her line of frozen men. Her finger moved ever so slightly, counting.

Anna’s eyes widened when she realized the witch had been calling for Hans. The witch did not have thirteen frozen royals at her command like she thought. She had twelve.

Anna didn’t dare move. She glanced sideways at Hans. He gripped her hand tighter when he made the same realization she just had. He kept his eyes on the enraged woman while nudging Anna to move along the wall towards the balcony.

They moved slowly, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Anna didn’t think the balcony was the best option, but it was their only option. If they could get past the entrance, they could hide along the wall outside on the balcony. Maybe buy themselves time to come up with some sort of plan.

“Where is he?” the woman growled the words at the frozen men. All at once, the twelve men turned, raised their arms obediently, and pointed directly to where Anna and Hans were sneaking along the wall.

The woman whirled around, her eyes livid with rage upon seeing Hans. “How?” She snarled, flicking her wrist with an order while advancing towards Anna. “Get the Queen while I take care of this.”

The remaining twelve brothers leapt into action, heading towards Queen Grete. Elsa was ready to meet them. An icy barrier struck up between the frozen men and Elsa. Queen Grete stayed behind her. Anna knew her sister would have to protect the queen. Elsa had no choice, even with the palace guards rushing to defend their queen, it was obvious that they were no match for the men the witch controlled.

Anna was on her own.

The witch stepped towards Hans, and he backed up flat against the wall. Anna barely had time to react as an icy blast hurtled towards them. On reflex, Anna firmly gripped Hans’s hand and pulled him out of the way, stumbling into the balcony entrance.

The ice that was intended for Hans shattered against the wall. Before either could fully recover from the attack, the witch struck again. This time hitting her mark. The force of impact had Hans staggering backwards out onto the balcony. Still clutching Anna’s hand, he dragged her with him.

“Hans!” Anna shouted in concern, only it was needless. When she turned to him, Hans wasn’t freezing. Aside from looking winded, he appeared to be fine.

The witch’s satisfied smile faded into astonished disbelief. “No…that can’t be.” Her attention turned to Hans’s hand clasped in Anna’s hand. The witch shrieked in frustration, turning her fury on Anna. “You!” Anna flinched at her voice. “What did you do?” Her eyes narrowed as she gave Anna a slow once over and paused. “What _are_ you?”

The wind itself, howling on the balcony, seemed to answer the question.

“ _One that should not be.”_

The words filled Anna with an uncontrollable sense of dread. She inched closer to Hans.

“If she shouldn’t be, then she will not be!” The witch let loose a gust of wind and ice that neither Anna or Hans could avoid. Hans ducked to the ground, pulling Anna down with him. Lying on the ground they’d still be hit, but maybe not as badly.

A bolt of ice, shot from elsewhere deflected the witch’s blow, sending the blast careening off to the side, barely missing Hans. The ice shattered against the balcony railing, smashing a sizeable chunk of the marble to pieces.

“Anna!” It was Elsa, she had shot her magic in the nick of time.

Anna could see her sister just past the witch, making her way to the balcony. It was a short-lived relief for Anna. Elsa wouldn’t make it to her in time. Not with the speed in which the witch could use her magic.

The witch positioned herself to deflect Elsa’s attacks while still maintaining her advantage over Anna. Again, the witch stepped forward, one hand poised at Elsa, the other at Anna. The woman was now in full control of the situation.

This time, Anna knew they didn’t stand a chance. Hans was backing them up, scrambling on the ground towards the balcony edge, but it was in vain. Anna was close enough to peer over the gaping side of the destroyed balcony. She couldn’t see the the swirling dark sea crashing against the cliff.

But she could hear it.

They would never survive the fall.

With her attention on Elsa, the witch was close enough to Anna that even firing blind she would hit her intended mark without fail.

Anna had never felt so helpless in her life. She huddled against Hans for all the good it would do. He moved his arms tightly around Anna’s waist, and before she could protest, he rolled over the edge of the balcony, taking her with him.

The last thing Anna heard as she fell was Elsa screaming her name.

Anna could not think of a single incident more terrifying than falling blindly into the black abyss, hurtling towards the sea.

They hit the water hard, with Hans letting go of her upon collision. Anna was plunged deeply underwater from the impact of the fall, her muscles immediately tensing up in the frigid waters. She quickly tried to right herself and not panic, forcing her legs to move, paddling back to the surface of the water. When she broke to the surface, she gasped for breath, her body chilled and aching all over.

She was amazed she was alive, and that she had survived the fall.

While she’d never been a particularly strong swimmer, she could keep herself afloat—that was when she wasn’t wearing a ballgown and petticoats.

Treading water was becoming increasingly difficult the more waterlogged her gown became. The weight of the gown would eventually drag her down and she would drown. She knew she needed to get to shore as quickly as possible. Except she had no idea which direction the shore was in. She tried to get her bearings, and look around for Hans, but Anna couldn’t see him in the darkness or hear him over the rushing water.

She was now struggling to stay afloat, exerting all her energy on keeping her head above the water. She couldn’t keep it up much longer. Her gown was too heavy and she had no way of freeing herself from it. 

“Hans?” she yelled his name, trying to listen for an answer. She thought she heard a reply over the crashing of the waves, but couldn’t be sure.

She didn’t have the strength to keep shouting as the drenched fabric of her ballgown seemed to get heavier and heavier, pulling her head closer and closer to the water. She was going under despite her best efforts.

“Ha—” she tried calling for Hans again before her head went beneath the waves. She quickly closed her mouth, and struggled to break to the surface, her waterlogged gown dragging her further down.

She was fading fast, finally unable to fight the weight of her dress any longer. Down, down, down she sank, her lungs now burning for air.

It was then that Hans was there, and Anna felt a glimmer of hope. He managed to get his lips on hers, exchanging her some oxygen. He had her in his arms, and suddenly Anna felt free of the weight of her dress. He had succeeded in cutting the lacings, and pulled her from the damned gown.

Moments later, they broke the surface, and Anna gasped desperately for air in a mixture of coughing and choking as waves still lapped at her face. Salt water burned her nose and throat as she continued to cough violently. She sputtered, clinging to Hans for dear life, and wanting nothing more than to get out of the ocean.

“Easy now,” he soothed breathlessly as he gently loosened Anna’s death grip from around his neck, but still let her hang on to him. “You’re all right. I’ve got you.”

Anna could only nod.

“I’m going to get us to the shore now, okay?” Hans began to swim for the both of them. Anna had no choice but to trust that he knew what he was doing. She was spent, completely wore out. She had almost drowned, and he’d saved her. _Hans_ had saved her.

Several minutes later, he got them to the shore. Out of breath, the two crawled onto the rocky beach far enough away from the water before collapsing on the damp ground.

Anna’s teeth chattered from the cold, but she didn’t have it in her to move. Fatigue had completely taken over. She didn’t even care that she was lying in her underclothes, shivering uncontrollably. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

Hans was sitting up beside her, struggling to get his sopping wet tailcoat off. Once it was off, he draped it over her shaking body before he dropped back breathlessly to the ground beside her.

Anna could see the lights of the palace up in the distance now. It appeared that Hans had swam them along the cliff side to a small inlet of shore. She never would have made it on her own. How he knew where to swim in the dark was beyond her.

But right now, she was having trouble focusing on anything.

Her eyes grew as heavy as her limbs, and within seconds she was falling again, only this time into the blackness of a wearied slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a decent amount of researching historical ladies’ undergarments, I’ve learned that during the 19th century, there were many types of corsets, not just the ‘uber constricting whalebone lined, waist trimming’ one most associate with the word. The word ‘corset’ was used to describe a number of variations. The information I was able to dig up referred to Britain and North America, and not Norway, or any other Scandinavian country, so I have no idea what those countries would have worn for underclothing, and assume they wore essentially the same.
> 
> I’ve taken a leap and made the choice to have Anna wear a soft corset, which was much less restrictive and does not have the whaleboning (and to my knowledge does not open in the front). I feel this is the best choice for the types of activity we see Anna doing in the film. I believe this also makes more sense with her wearing a bodice over her blouse in her casual dress as well.
> 
> To further the topic of Anna’s undergarments—concept art, and paper dolls mostly have her wearing the corset without the chemise underneath, so I’ve chosen to stick with that, even though a chemise worn under the corset was the norm, (but not the rule!) historically. Her drawers, since we are on the topic of underclothes, are historically correct and have the open slit up the center, being drawn together at the waist with string.


	6. Chapter 5

The sun was shining on her, and she was warm and dry. Anna’s first thought waking up was how comfy and soft Hans’s tailcoat was. It was like a blanket; a big, cozy blanket wrapped around her. Even the ground was soft and comfy.

Last night, she’d been too tired to care if she slept on the rocks and driftwood that made up the shore. She didn’t think it had been all that comfortable then, but she’d been exhausted enough not to care. She gave a slow stretch, and winced. She was definitely still sore. She imagined she would be for a few days.

“Oh, Anna! Thank God!”

_Elsa?_

Anna opened her eyes as her sister threw her arms around her. Anna blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings. Disoriented, she felt as though she had just woken up from a horrible nightmare. This was not where she remembered being. She was in her bed at the Southern Isles palace. Not half alive on a rocky, cold beach. _Wait, what?_

“Elsa?” Anna’s throat was so parched that the word came out more as a croaking sound than anything. Elsa was immediately reaching across her for a glass of water. She held it for Anna, and coaxed it gently to her lips. After a few sips, Anna felt a little better.

Elsa was hugging her tightly again. “Oh God, you had me so worried. When you went over that balcony I thought…I thought—” Elsa broke off with a sob, her hot tears splashed against Anna’s neck.

“I’m okay, I’m fine,” Anna instinctively soothed.

Anna had always thought that out of the two of them, she was the more emotional one. She had been wrong. It was definitely Elsa. Elsa could burst into tears at the snap of a finger when it came to Anna. Anna had learned very quickly that now that Elsa felt free to actually feel, she did it a lot. For all the grand and glorious things Elsa was and could do, she was in Anna’s opinion, a very fragile and sensitive person deep down.

“Grete thought there was a good chance you’d be okay.” Elsa sniffed, hesitant to let go of Anna. “She said it wasn’t the first time Hans went over that balcony.”

Queen Grete, King Vilhelm, the princes, the witch…it all came back to Anna in an instant. It had all happened. It hadn’t been some messed up dream. But if it had all happened, how did she get here? She looked around, she was clearly back in the palace.

And the palace looked fine. Elsa looked fine—well, aside from the dark circles under her eyes and disheveled hair. Anna suspected that Elsa hadn’t left her side since she’d been found.

There was no trace of the ice or the witch.

“Elsa,” she spoke slowly. “What happened?”

“I managed to chase her off.” Elsa bit her lip in thought. “But I’m not sure for how long. I don’t think she expected me to be…well, _me_.” Elsa straightened up, and brushed her hair behind her ear. It was a trait both sisters shared when they were anxious. “We…we were lucky. She knew what I was, because I’m pretty sure she’s just like me. I think she underestimated me though, a mistake she won’t make again. She’ll be back. She’s intent on taking Grete for the baby. Or just the baby, Grete is due any day now.”

“Well, you were right.” Anna grimaced, rubbing her shoulder. “The Westergaards are definitely cursed.”

Elsa nodded. “No doubt Vilhelm’s coronation triggered it. King Stieg is officially no longer the king of the Southern Isles.”

“So…” Anna hesitated. “What does this mean for us?”

“Well, we can’t just leave, that’s obvious. I’m the only person with any chance of matching her. The palace guards are practically useless against her.” Elsa shuddered. “You didn’t see how fast they went through the guard. She didn’t give pause to anyone but you and I.”

“Me?” Anna felt a shiver go down her spine. “I-I’m nothing special. I’m completely ordinary.”

“That’s what I said.” Elsa’s eyes widened, realizing what she had just said. Her cheeks flushed. “I meant the ordinary part, not the…” Anna nodded. Elsa’s hand went through her hair again. “You’ve never shown any inkling of having, you know, _magic_ , but Hans is saying differently.”

“What?”

“He’s saying you _unfroze_ him, and he claims that the witch’s powers didn’t work on him while he was touching _you_.” Elsa was chewing on her bottom lip again with a worried expression tight across her face. “Anna, you don’t think that maybe…maybe you and Hans…I mean, if you thawed his heart—”

“—It wasn’t an act of true love,” Anna quickly cut in. She gave an uncomfortable laugh. That had not been it at all, there was no way she and Hans were…

Elsa hesitated, her brows creasing in concern. “It’s just that the way you two were dancing together…”

Anna shook her head adamantly. “It wasn’t like that! I was just—Lennart was being a jerk, and Hans was going to the monastery…and…and…it didn’t _mean_ anything! It was just a dance!”

Anna didn’t even want to think of it. Hans wasn’t capable of true love. She had simply touched him and he’d thawed, broken from the spell that he’d been under. She hadn’t done any grand gesture of love.

She hadn’t felt any crippling sorrow seeing him on the ground like a lover would. If anything, she’d been in a state of shock. And she hadn’t sacrificed herself for him, there had been no putting herself on the line for him. There was definitely no way an act of true love had anything to do with this curse. Yet, Anna felt the uncontrollable urge to prove it.

“Well, what about the other princes? The king? Surely if an act of true love could thaw their hearts, someone other than Hans broke free too.”

Now Elsa looked uncomfortable. “The rest of the Westergaards are gone. They left to God knows where, following after that woman. Not even Grete could break Vilhelm from the curse, but the thing is: nobody really loves any of them.”

“Wait, _what_?”

“It’s true. Any of the married Westergaard princes were all marriages of convenience. All arranged. None of their wives are particularly fond of them. Some actually seemed quite relieved to have their husbands gone. Even Grete admitted that while she and Vilhelm get on fine, she doesn’t love him. Hans is the only one unaffected.”

Back to Hans. It was always back to Hans, wasn’t it? Anna rubbed her temples. He’d saved her last night, twice. Did that count as an act of true love? But then he’d done those things after he’d already broken from the curse. And _after_ he’d decided she could keep him safe from the witch’s powers.

Anna groaned.

Now it made sense why Hans’s gloves had inexplicably been taken off. He’d done it on purpose to have easy access to her. He believed he needed her to ensure his survival, so he made sure she had been with him at all times. Anna felt like a fool. He’d used her again.

Aside from Hans acting exactly like Hans, the whole thing still didn’t make sense. Nothing added up to what they knew about frozen hearts.

“Where is Hans?” Anna asked abruptly.

“The dungeon. He’s under lock and key right now,” Elsa answered. Seeing the perplexed expression on Anna’s face, she hastily continued, “I know that sounds bad, but Grete couldn’t discount that Hans isn’t somehow involved. Her safety is paramount at this time; we couldn’t risk it.”

Anna nodded. She could see where this was going. Of course Hans would be a suspect. It was no secret that he had tried regicide once before. Sure, he’d failed at it, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Hans was capable of it. Capable of orchestrating it, and carrying it out. Had Anna not stopped him in Arendelle, he would have been on the Arendelle throne instead of Elsa.

“It doesn’t help that he’s the only one of the Westergaards not under the witch’s control, and that I refuted his claim that you had magic,” Elsa finished. “I mean, it’s a really weird thing to say.”

Anna nodded absently. Something didn’t add up to her, but she was having trouble putting her finger on it.

_One that should not be._

Anna felt uneasy for a moment. Where had she heard that from? She tried to place the voice, but was having trouble remembering. It was like waking up too soon from a very detailed dream only to recall vague impressions.

She opened her mouth to tell Elsa about the strange voice when there was a short rapping at the door, interrupting her before she began. Both sisters turned their attention to the door as it opened.

A servant popped his head in, addressing Elsa, “Your Majesty?”

“Yes?”

“Queen Grete did not want to disturb you because of your sis—oh!” The servant noticed Anna sitting up in the bed. He gave a quick bow. “Princess Anna! You are awake! This is very good news. Her Majesty will be relieved.”

“What does Grete need?” Elsa gently steered the man back on track.

“Ah, yes! Sorry, Your Majesty.” The servant looked sheepish. “The Queen Dowager is in one of her more lucid states, and her highness, Queen Grete, believes that now is a good opportunity to speak with her. I’m afraid the Queen Dowager’s moments of clarity are fast and fleeting these days.”

Elsa stood up. “Please tell Queen Grete that she can send for Prince Hans then, and that I will be with her shortly.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the servant replied, bowing again before leaving.

Anna shot her sister a questioning look. “I thought Grete’s safety was of the utmost importance. Are you sure she should be near Hans?”

“We’ve not much choice in the matter. As you are aware, the Queen Dowager is not quite right, and she will not see visitors unless one of her sons is present. Hans will be guarded, and I’ll be there.” Elsa climbed off of Anna’s bed. “I don’t think it will be long anyway judging by what I’ve heard about her. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Anna threw back the covers, intent on climbing out of the bed. The room spun heavily, but Anna ignored it. “I’m coming too!”

“Anna,” Elsa reprimanded. “You aren’t well, you need to rest, take it easy, eat.”

Anna was already standing. “You said yourself, you didn’t think it’d be long, and if the Queen Dowager is speaking in riddles or rambles or whatever, another set of ears to hear things would be an asset.”

Elsa considered it. “True, but are you sure you are feeling up to it?”

“Even if I wasn’t, I would still go,” Anna replied. “We are in this together, remember?”

Elsa smiled. “Let’s get you dressed and fed then.”

* * *

Anna hadn’t meant to stare at the Queen Dowager. It was just that she was not what Anna had expected at all. The Queen Dowager sat at a rather large vanity, lavishly combing her long greying blonde hair with what appeared to be a silver brush with gold filigree and opulent green jewels decorating it. She wore heavy make up and even heavier jewels.

She was a squat, stocky woman and garish in appearance, as though she was struggling to hold on to her youth and status. Despite the caked-on cosmetics the Queen Dowager wore, it was obvious that the twelve eldest Westergaards took very much after their mother in features. Hans did not, though he had acquired his mother’s startling green eyes. It was the only similar trait Anna could see between the two. She wondered briefly what his father had looked like.

Distracted, Anna glanced over at Hans, who sat quietly in shackles across the room from her, and as far away from his mother as possible. He didn’t look overly pleased to be here, nor did he seem particularly pleased to be in the company of any of them. He’d given Anna more attention than the rest, giving her a short, silent once over when he’d been brought into the room, but he had kept whatever he was thinking to himself.

The oil lamp on the wall above Hans’s head gave his auburn hair a coppery sheen, prompting Anna to continue her observations on the familial traits of the Westergaards. Anna had assumed that one of Hans’s parents had black hair while the other had red, judging by his and his brothers’s appearances. This was clearly not the case.

“You are looking well today, Your Majesty,” Queen Grete addressed the Queen Dowager politely.

The Queen Dowager didn’t look at her daughter-in-law at all. Instead, her attention was fixated on Hans.

“What is that wretched thing doing here?” she muttered peevishly, pointing her brush at him. “Should have drowned it in a well the moment it was born.”

Anna gave a small, horrified gasp, taken aback by the woman’s comment. She quickly regained her composure, remembering that the Queen Dowager was quite mad. Anna would most likely hear more shocking things from her in the duration of this meeting.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you too, Mother,” Hans replied flatly. He looked unaffected by his mother’s words, bored even. Anna wondered how long the Queen Dowager had been this way for Hans to show such complacency to her awful words.

The Queen Dowager bristled indignantly at Han’s response, as though she couldn’t believe he was addressing her. “Get that thing out of my sight.”

“Your Majesty—” Grete interjected.

“—Where is my Vilhelm? He never would have brought that thing to me. Or my Ulrik? Lennart even.” The Queen Dowager narrowed her eyes at Grete. “Why would you bring it here?”

“Because he is the only one of your sons spared from the curse,” Grete answered firmly. “The curse you’ve been talking about.”

The Queen Dowager let out a shrill wail that made Anna jump. She thought she heard Hans snicker to himself, but when she looked his way, his face was impassive.

“Your Majesty,” Elsa was now speaking. She addressed the Queen Dowager in a very soft and very calm voice. “I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. I may be able to help in the recovery of your sons, but you must tell us everything you know of this curse, and the woman who brought it upon your kingdom.”

The Queen Dowager let out a heavy sigh and waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, that old thing. Everything would have been fine had _that one_ —” she gave a pointed look at Hans, “—not ruined it all.”

Hans gave a disgusted snort. “Here we go again, ‘ _the thirteenth son_ ’.”

“You were supposed to be a girl! The last one is _always_ a girl!” the Queen Dowager shrieked, addressing Hans directly. She slammed her brush down with a sharp bang on the vanity table and rose to her feet in a fury to round on Hans. Anna was half afraid the old woman was going to lunge at him and claw at his face. Hans didn’t even flinch. “It all would have been fine if you had just been a girl, but no! You had to be some trick of the fae, a changeling switched out—”

“Can I go now?” Hans interrupted.

“—Doesn’t even look like the other twelve,” the Queen Dowager railed on. “He was sent to ruin us all! They did it on purpose, they did! Tricked us they did!”

“Who?” Elsa asked calmly. “Who was it that tricked you?”

Elsa’s serene voice seemed to pull the Queen Dowager out of her fit, and amazingly, the woman sat back down, finding her brush and continuing on with brushing her hair as if she hadn’t had an outburst at all.

Anna did her best to look at ease. She found that this whole situation was quite distressing, and was starting to wish she had just stayed in her bed. The animosity between Hans and his mother permeated through the room. Anna couldn’t believe that any mother, mad or not, could speak of their own child in such a vile manner.

It was obvious that their issues started way before Hans had ever left for Arendelle. In fact, from the sounds of it, the Queen Dowager seemed to despise him since his birth simply because he had not been born a female.

Anna looked over at Hans again, this time he appeared more agitated. His face remained blank and emotionless, but Anna noticed him shift his shoulders awkwardly, like he had an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. Or as though he found the back of his chair uncomfortable. It didn’t help that he was shackled, his hands drawn together tightly in front of him, positioned on his lap. Anna didn’t blame him for asking to leave. He probably preferred his cell to this altercation with his mother.

“All the history, all the signs pointed to a daughter. We would never have made the deal if we had thought otherwise.” The Queen Dowager gave a disparaging sigh. “And I gave up my best mirror too. I should like to have the set complete again.”

“What deal?” Grete asked softly.

But the Queen Dowager seemed to be lost in thought, and no longer with them. She waved Grete off, the silver brush catching the light and sparkling brilliantly. “I do not wish to talk of such terrible things—”

“—Oh for God’s sake! Are you all complete idiots?” Hans snapped, surprising everyone in the room. “What terrible things, Mother? Hmmmm? Could it possibly be that you made a deal with some sorceress, some _witch_ to make the Southern Isles profitable? Anyone looking at the castle records could see the isles were failing, falling into debt twenty some years ago. You promised up a baby girl, didn’t you? That was the payment asked and that was the payment promised. But instead you got me, and now you are paying the consequences. You put us all up as collateral, and now the witch has come to collect her dues.”

The Queen Dowager gasped. “How dare you!”

“How dare I what?” Hans snarled, and Anna glimpsed the monster rising up in his eyes. “How dare I finally learn why you and Father despised me?” He faltered, his voice catching. Anna thought he looked like he was going to be ill. “I was supposed to be _payment_ for a happily ever after. Only you had another baby boy instead of a promised baby girl, and now you’ve lost all your sons.” Hans turned to Queen Grete. “We’re done here. Take me back to my cell.”

“We are not—”

“ _I_ am.” Hans stood up, and the guards immediately went to attention. “I’ll show myself out.”

Anna watched in stunned silence, staring at Hans’s empty chair. He walked past Anna towards the door, and she swore the air felt cooler as he passed. Grete gave a small nod to the guards to escort him away.

The Queen Dowager seemed to be much more cooperative and at ease with Hans being removed, but Anna was too busy staring at the chair Hans had sat in to care what the woman was now saying, rambling on about her precious mirror. Was it just a trick of the light, or could she actually see frost slowly melting away on the back of his chair?

She squinted her eyes, trying to get a closer look in the dim lighting. She couldn’t tell if it was frost or not. She knew it would be impolite to stand up and go check, but if she didn’t go investigate now, it would melt away. She would never know for sure if what she was seeing was what she thought she was seeing.

Anna stood up and moved towards where Hans had been sitting.

“Anna?” Puzzled, Elsa rose too.

Anna ignored her sister, now sure of what she was seeing. She dropped to a crouch and tentatively pressed her fingers onto the back of Hans’s chair. It was cold. She slid her fingers slowly up the leather back of the chair, watching the thin layer of frost melt under her warm touch and stared at the cool droplets on her fingertips.

“Anna?” Elsa asked again, this time directly behind her. “What is it?”

Anna turned her worried expression up at Elsa. “He’s freezing again.”


	7. Chapter 6

The moment Anna realized what was happening, she fled the room. Racing down the corridor she heard Elsa call after her. She couldn’t stop. If she stopped it could be too late. Hans was freezing again; she was sure of it. She had to get to him. She _had_ to save him. She couldn’t explain it, even to herself. It was something she simply had to do.

It was easier to just avoid the questions and act instead. She’d bolted from the Queen Dowager’s quarters, leaving both Elsa and Grete in concern. She’d explain later, or at least try to explain.

Anna rounded a corner, skidding clumsily on the polished marble floor as she quickly changed directions. Her body ached in objection. Her muscles were still stiff from her fall and impromptu swim. She pushed forward anyway, ignoring the pain.

There, at the end of the hall, she could see a group of five guards. Hans was slumped in between two of them. It was happening. He was freezing, slower than last time, but freezing nonetheless.

“Princess Anna!” one of the guards cried in surprise when they caught sight of her. The guards closed around Hans, eliminating him from her view. “He just collapsed, we sent for the physician.”

“Let me see him!” she shouted as two guards blocked her way, while one gently held her back.

“It’s not something fit for a princess to see, my lady,” the guard holding her back said.

“No,” Anna pleaded. “You have to let me by!”

“Let her through.”

Anna turned, it was Elsa.

The guards hesitated. “Your Majesty, his appearance may shock you.”

“We were there at the ball. Nothing will shock us.”

“Let them by,” Queen Grete called from down the hall, moving as quickly as her heavily pregnant body would let her. “They may be able to help.”

The guards began to part, and Anna shoved her way through them, reaching Hans. His body was stiff and covered in frost, the same plight she’d seen him in at the ball. “Elsa?” she called, dropping to her knees beside Hans. “Do you think you can undo it?”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“I know it’s not yours, but you can try, right?”

Elsa stepped forward. “I can try, but Anna, I’m not the one who saved him before. According to him, that was you.”

Anna felt that same cold sense of dread that she had felt earlier when she had heard of Hans’s claim. She had been quick to come to his rescue when she’d figured out what was happening…but now? Now a sudden uneasiness made her feel like she was sinking into a pit of darkness. There was nothing special about her. _Nothing_. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the unexplainable fear she could feel rising in her throat like bile.

_“One that should not be,”_ a cruel voice hissed in her ear.

Frightened, Anna opened her eyes. She blinked a few times before glancing around the corridor. No owner to the voice could be seen, and no one else appeared to have heard it.

_You’re hearing things_ , her mind scolded.

“Anna?” Elsa’s voice was tight with concern, drawing Anna back to reality. “It’s not working. I have no control over this ice.”

Anna tentatively reached a hand out to Hans’s face. “Please,” she whispered as her open palm brushed across his cheek.

Everyone but Anna jumped with a start when Hans moved. He inhaled sharply followed by rushed, ragged breaths. His eyes shot open in fleeting surprise.

Hans stared at Anna the same as before with the same bewildered look on his face. It reminded Anna of someone who just awoke from a dream. He gave a small moan that sounded a little suggestive as his gaze seemed to focus on her.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured softly to her. He closed his eyes and basked in her touch as though he was a cat napping in the afternoon sun. Mortified at his intimacy, Anna quickly snatched her hand away from his face. No one seemed to notice Hans’s rather strange behaviour except her.

“How is this possible?” Elsa breathed in awe beside her. It was rare for Anna to hear such surprise in her sister’s voice. Nothing ever seemed to faze Elsa. “Anna, what did you do?”

“I don’t know.” Anna’s hands flitted helplessly. How could she describe anything that had raced through her brain just moments ago? She didn’t have the answers herself. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Did you _feel_ anything?” Elsa pressed. “Like any sort of feelings at all for him?”

Anna balked at the question. “No!”

Maybe a year ago she had loved Hans, but what she felt for him now couldn’t possibly count as true love. Sure, she could admit in secret that she rather enjoyed his company when he was being a decent sort of man, but she was still suspicious and wary of him. She still didn’t like him. How could she after everything he’d done to her and Elsa? That didn’t fit with true love at all. He had left her for dead, for crying out loud! And true love most certainly did not do that.

Satisfied with Anna’s answer, Elsa moved on to Hans. She grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and shook him, shaking off his dazed, strangely content expression. “What about you?” Elsa demanded briskly. “What did you feel?”

With an annoyed glare, Hans shrugged Elsa off of him. Within seconds, there was no trace of the weird, bewitched Hans that had spoken to Anna in tones equal to a lover. “It was cold, and it was dark. I was freezing. There was something…” He frowned as if trying to remember an important detail. There was a sudden, faraway look in his eye as he sat quietly for a moment. “Something was calling to me from the darkness, and I was going to go to it. Then a light appeared opposite the dark, and there was Anna.” He gave a short, deprecating laugh. In the blink of an eye, Anna could see Hans return to being himself with sharp clarity. “She was really warm, and I was really cold. You do the math. She had what I needed, so I took it. Simple as that.”

Hans’s words had struck a wrong chord with Elsa. Her hands balled into fists, and the air around her suddenly grew colder. Anna gently placed her hand on Elsa’s arm to try and calm her.

“If I may,” Queen Grete interrupted, obviously trying to avert a confrontation. “I think I have a theory, though you may not want to hear it.”

“I would gladly take any council on this matter that you may have,” Elsa replied back, still watching Hans with a scowl on her face.

“Well, I’m no expert on magic and curses, but perhaps…” Grete paused. “Perhaps it’s because Anna has already survived a…um…a similar sort of magic.”

Everyone turned their full attention to Grete, even Hans.

“Please continue,” Elsa urged Grete. “It is now nothing but a distant memory for Anna and I. I assure you, your words will not offend us.”

Grete cleared her throat before continuing. “It is possible that Anna can repel this curse because she has previously survived having her heart frozen. As it stands, there is no way to truly test this theory since Hans is the only person it’s been proven on, and the others afflicted are no longer here to put it to the test. If the only other possibility is in fact an act of true love, I think it’s safe to assume that that is not the case with Anna and Hans, given their unpleasant history. It could also explain why Hans finds Anna so…um… _warm_.”

Grete’s words had Anna shifting uncomfortably, her hand automatically brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Someone else had noticed Hans’s behaviour upon waking. 

“Who knows what sort of magical residue Anna possesses after thawing herself out. I imagine it would have taken a great deal of magic to pull that off. My understanding is that she was frozen solid, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Elsa answered softly. She nibbled her lip again, cueing to Anna that she was thinking things through, and weighing Grete’s theory carefully. “Unless Anna truly does have some kind of magic, this theory would also explain why Hans froze again. If it had been true love, the curse would have been fully lifted in our experience. But as we’ve all just seen, Anna’s touch can, for whatever reason, temporarily keep it at bay.”

“Then I request permission to keep Princess Anna within my sight and reach at all times,” Hans interjected rather loudly.

Both Grete and Elsa looked equally taken aback and disgusted with Hans. Anna gave an annoyed sigh. Of course he would be suggesting that. Hans was very good at looking after Hans.

_Still_ …

Anna pursed her lips, pondering the idea. She wasn’t thrilled about it, and as unpleasant as it sounded to her, it wasn’t an entirely unreasonable demand given their current situation. It did hold some merit. Anna began chewing her lip in thought, trying to tune out the conversation that was going on around her.

“ _You_ are currently under arrest, and certainly in no position to make any sort of requests,” Queen Grete answered Hans back tersely. “Especially one so vulgar.”

“My life is on the line here!” Hans argued.

“How dare you!” Elsa joined in, the unrestrained anger clear in her voice. “I would never put Anna in any position that would require her to be in your company longer than necessary—”

“—I could die!” Hans cut in, practically shouting.

“And you left her to die!” Elsa’s voice rang out, filling the corridor, and silencing all others. “Or did you forget that? Because I certainly have not.”

Hans’s lip quirked cruelly. “As I recall, _Your Majesty_ , you were the one who issued that particular death sentence in the first place. I couldn’t have saved her even if I had tried.”

“The point is that you _didn’t_ try. Not that you _couldn’t_ try,” Elsa spat back, her voice shriller by the second. “You _chose_ not to try. You _chose_ to douse that fire. You _chose_ to leave her locked in that room. And you _chose_ her death.”

Hans opened his mouth to give a rebuttal when Anna quickly imposed on the verbal fray.

“Permission granted!”

Both Elsa and Grete turned to stare at Anna in horrified unison. Hans’s open mouth stayed that way. Whatever words he was going to say were now lost as he gawked at her instead.

“What?” Elsa whispered in shock.

“I said, I grant Hans’s request,” Anna repeated steadily. While everyone else had been arguing and quick to dismiss Hans, Anna had been thinking it through. “No one has bothered to ask me, and I’m sitting right here. But I think I have a right to say what I think, since I’m directly involved.”

Elsa gave Anna an apologetic smile. “Of course, Anna. Your opinion counts just as much as anyone’s.” She narrowed her eyes at Hans. “And more than others.”

Anna took a deep breath. “Whether we like it or not, Hans is right. He does need me near him, because if he freezes again and turns like his brothers did, he’s a guaranteed threat to us all. Think about it, he’d be that witch’s minion, and he’d be within the palace walls to do her bidding.”

“If he isn’t already,” Grete muttered under her breath.

“He’d be in the dungeon, in his cell, under guard, and lock and key,” Elsa answered.

Anna shook her head. “That didn’t work out so well with you and your powers, did it? And you already said that the guards were no match at the ball.”

“Anna…”

“And what if it does kill him? Then we have no connection at all to the curse. He’s our link.” Anna’s mind was made up. She’d already had time to think this through. It was her turn to be the rational, sensible one. Queen Grete and her unborn child were in danger. Anna would not sit idly by simply because something as silly as being near Hans was an undesirable answer to the current problem. “This is the safest solution for everybody until we have more information on what we’re dealing with, and come up with a plan.”

Elsa and Grete exchanged wary glances to one another, but Elsa heaved sigh, and conceded. “All right, but I still don’t like it.”

“Nobody does.”

“I do,” replied Hans.

* * *

Anna sat on an out of place, leather cushioned chair outside of Hans’s cell. The chair had been brought down to the dungeon for her comfort as a more suitable arrangement was being made. The palace staff and guard were busy preparing an unused room in one of the further wings of the palace as a private cell for Hans and living quarters for Anna.

She fidgeted with a heavy book she was supposed to be reading as she sat in awkward silence with Hans. At times, she felt she ought to say something to him, try to strike up a friendly conversation. If only to chase away the stifling discomfort she felt sitting here. She had been privy to some very unpleasant news regarding Hans and his family, and as much as she didn’t like Hans, Anna did feel badly for him.

What did one say to someone who had only just discovered that they were meant to be payment? That they had never been wanted? That because they were not adequate currency, they had cursed their family?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Anna finally asked him, unsure if she should have said anything at all.

Hans, who had been lying flat on his back on his prison cot, content to stare at the ceiling, rolled over to face her. He watched her curiously before answering, “I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate. I’m unclear as to which topic my lady wishes to discuss.”

Anna fidgeted with the pages of her book. She shouldn’t have said anything. She could already tell by his tone that Hans was in no mood to get personal with her. “I’m sorry, I only meant to see how you were doing after that visit with your mother. It can’t have been easy for you.”

His body relaxed, and he stretched one long leg out before sitting up to face her. “You apologize too much. You really need to stop doing that.”

“I’m sor—” Anna cut her words off, catching another apology. She had not expected him to reply with a flippant observation of her. He’d thrown her off with his comment, now making her self conscious.

He chortled to himself, and Anna silently fumed. She really should have just kept her mouth shut and read her book. It had been stupid to feel any sort of pity for Hans. She’d forgotten that Hans was incapable of feelings and was now using hers as sport.

“Never mind,” Anna mumbled, pulling her book up to her face, effectively ending the conversation. She heard him chuckle again from behind her page. Anna held the book higher in an attempt to focus on the words in front of her instead of on the man just beyond the leather and parchment.

“You would make a brilliant queen, you know,” he said conversationally. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit.”

“I’m not a queen,” Anna answered, keeping her eyes on the page.

“I never said you were. I said you would make a great one.”

“Brilliant,” Anna replied back without thinking.

“Hmmm?”

“You said ‘brilliant’, not ‘great’.”

Another soft chuckle.

“I can’t figure it out though,” he continued, and Anna could just hear that wide, devilish grin in his voice. He left a deliberate pause, waiting for her to take the bait.

Anna closed her eyes. She did not want to engage in this kind of conversation with him, and yet, his voice was so pleasant, so inviting, and the dungeon was so _boring_. Almost as boring as the book Grete had given her to read.

She sighed, giving in and hating herself for it. “Can’t figure what out?”

“Why you’ve not yet got a betrothed, or even a suitor.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?” Anna answered loftily. She had no desire divulge her love life to a man who had single-handedly obliterated it.

“Oh, come now! You don’t think I didn’t ask around the moment I learned you were in the Southern Isles?” He laughed again, a soft, seductive, trilling sound. “You don’t think my brothers didn’t? It is strange that a crown princess isn’t sought after as much as she should be.”

Anna bristled, unsure of where he was leading. “No stranger than a queen not yet wed.”

“Well, your sister was never easy to get close to.”

“How would you know?” Anna asked, getting annoyed. “You didn’t even bother with her.”

“No, I didn’t,” Hans answered, his voice suddenly contemplative. “It seems I’m the odd duck in that respect.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Before she realized it, Anna put the book down in her lap, giving her full attention back to Hans. She silently cursed her stupidity. It would look childish to shove her nose back in the book now. He would know he’d gotten to her.

He deliberately turned his head away from her, glancing slyly at her sideways instead, that grin playing coyly on his lips, almost as though he was flirting. “Nothing, really. Just it’s a shame that no one else sees you for you. Instead, it’s ‘ _Princess Anna, the stepping stone to her sister_ ’.”

Anna rolled her eyes. _Oh? Was that all?_ She almost laughed. Hans was losing his touch if he thought she’d be bothered by something she already thought about herself at least twice a day. _Four times_ if there was a ball or party. While it was true, no one had been interested in her romantically since Kristoff, Anna tried not to dwell on it. She rather liked being the filter between Elsa and potential suitors. Anna had gotten remarkably good at weeding out and deterring the particularly deplorable ones.

“Oh, Hans—” she smiled sweetly, ready to exchange barbs, “surely you must agree, that there is no sense in me falling needlessly in love with any man interested in only my sister or her crown.”

Hans didn’t seem at all perturbed by her words. “Is it because you’ve not found an equal to your ice harvester? Shame you couldn’t marry him.”

Anna stiffened at the mention of Kristoff. There should have been no way Hans would know what Kristoff had been to her. Before she could help herself, she asked, “How do you know about Kristoff?”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say some of my siblings felt it was their personal duty to keep me informed of my ex-fiancée’s comings and goings for awhile.”

“Why would you want to know what I was doing?”

“I didn’t.”

“And yet here you are, bringing it up.”

“Perhaps I’m just making polite conversation.”

“Well, unless you are planning to court me again,” Anna snapped back irritably, “a gentleman does not boldly inquire after a young lady’s love life!”

“I assure you, I’ve no intention of offering my suite.” He could barely get the words out without laughing. “I daresay, I’m a rather poor match these days.”

Anna clenched her fists. “You were _always_ a poor match.”

His laughter faded, and he settled back down onto his cot, his lips still smirking as he stared back up at the ceiling. “In answer to your original topic, I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. As you can see, your sympathies have been misplaced.”

His words rang of truth, but as Anna watched him, she wasn’t so sure she believed him. He’d deliberately derailed the conversation, purposely inciting her, rather than revealing how he was actually doing. He’d effectively avoided the topic. And what had Anna expected? Hans would be a fool to reveal any chinks in his armour, any weak spots she might use against him.

Still, it didn’t hurt to try and root them out if she could. Out of everyone, Anna felt she had the best chance to find out what Hans knew—if he knew anything—about the curse. Hans was more forthcoming with her than anyone, or at the very least, more inclined to talk with her. As far as she knew, no one had even bothered to ask Hans if he knew anything.

She bit her lip. It was worth a try.

“Hans…” Anna paused, drumming her fingers on her book. “The truth—what do you really know about the curse?”

“Nothing that you don’t.”

“You seemed to know a lot when speaking to your mother.”

“No, I seem to have gleaned more information from the meeting than the three of you did.”

Anna gave an exasperated sigh. “What was all that ‘thirteenth son’ stuff about then?”

The atmosphere in the room changed in heartbeat.

“You really want know?” He moved from the cot, his long legs swinging over the side to swiftly stand. He advanced towards her, his facial expression dark as he peered at her through the bars.

Anna froze. He was much more imposing close up. Much more menacing. Nothing like the man she had danced with at the ball. Anna feared she had stumbled into a hornet’s nest with her question, but if he answered her and she got information they could use…

Anna squared her shoulders and put her book down. She stood up and faced him, standing close enough to the bars that he could grab her if he wished. She almost dared him try. She would not be intimidated by him. She refused to give him that power over her ever again. He’d forgotten that she had already seen him at his worst and survived.

“Yes,” she answered steadily, meeting his eye.

His smile was as sharp as a knife. “I’m the reason for everything that goes wrong here.” Flecks of gold sparked in his vibrant green eyes as they bore into hers. “There’s a rockslide at the quarry—must be the unlucky thirteenth’s fault. Hail storm ruined over half the crops? Prince Hans’s work. Fishing boats lost at sea? The cursed prince is at it again. Children missing in the forest? Naturally the thirteenth son is to blame.”

Anna stared at him in surprised silence. He had to be joking. Surely, the people here didn’t honestly believe that? “But that’s all superstition—”

“—Doesn’t matter, does it? That’s _my_ fault too.” There was a bitterness to his voice that made Anna’s chest ache. She almost reached out to touch him gently with her hand. As if he could see what she was feeling, he tore his eyes from hers and pulled away from the bars. “I was born unlucky, and for every single day of my life on this wretched island, I’ve been reminded of that.”

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“Well, now you do,” he answered crisply, returning to his cot.

Anna swallowed, feeling inexplicably awful. Talking to Hans had not helped her at all. She wasn’t sure what to make of anything he had just told her. She’d have to remember to ask Grete later if what Hans said was true.

“And you really need to stop apologizing,” he muttered as an afterthought, turning his back to her.

Deciding their conversation was over, Anna went back to her book, thankful when a servant finally arrived, informing her that her quarters were now ready.


	8. Chapter 7

Anna stared at her new bedchamber. She had been given quarters that accommodated a large, heavy duty, iron cage. The cage was Hans’s new prison. Previously, it had been used to transport prisoners on the isles, but its compactness and portability made it an ideal choice to use as a makeshift cell for Hans. It was long enough that he could stretch out somewhat and sleep on the metal bench bolted to one side, and small enough that there was ample room to walk around it within Anna’s room.

It was a very odd arrangement; Anna was well aware of that. What she had agreed to was very much outside of the social norms. But, as bizarre as the whole thing was, Anna found it a much more comfortable arrangement than sitting on an out of place chair in front of Hans’s cell in the dungeon.

Her lady in waiting, Carol was beside herself with grief over the situation. She had been appalled by the idea in the first place, and insisted to Elsa that Anna have a chaperone present at all times. It didn’t matter that Hans was in a cage. What mattered was that he was in Anna’s bedchamber.

Elsa had granted the request, agreeing that even under normal circumstances, Anna should not be alone with Hans. Though she had failed to mention to Carol that Anna had been largely unsupervised in his presence while in the dungeon. The guards, while present, had hardly dissuaded them from interacting with one another.

Desperate for reprieve, Anna foolishly brought up the fact that she wasn’t alone with Hans, because guards would be present at all times. That had sent Carol through the roof. Anna, unmarried and alone, sleeping in a room full of men? Unheard of. Carol would be present at all times. Anna found very quickly that it was no use arguing. Neither her sister, nor Carol, would listen to any of it anyway. In their eyes, Anna would always be the younger girl needing supervision, even though Anna was an adult.

The last of Anna’s things had now been moved to her new room, and Anna was finally settled. She was thankful that the flurry of servants had left, and that she was free to have some time to herself. Well, as much privacy as one could have with a handful of watchful guards, one unnerving prisoner, and one very huffy lady in waiting. She almost wished for the peace of the dungeon. Almost.

It was early evening, and really, all Anna wanted was a hot bath and a warm bed. She knew if she asked, a bath would be prepared in one of the adjoining rooms for her. She wasn’t sure why she hesitated asking. She would already be changing her clothing in another room anyway, so she couldn’t explain what kept her from speaking up.

She hesitantly looked in the direction of the cage. It was cold and imposing; a big, black metal thing housing a prisoner in her bedroom as if he was some sort of wild pet.

For his part, Hans hadn’t been in much of a social mood since they had spoken in the dungeon. He’d remained silent but agreeable, drawing very little attention to himself, as though he was trying to disappear from thought all together. It was impossible, however, for Anna to forget he was there.

Hans was lying on his metal bench with no pillow or blanket, with his back turned to her. Anna felt a small pang in her chest. It felt wrong to enjoy basic amenities while someone was imprisoned in the same room.

She wasn’t entirely sure why he was still imprisoned in the first place. She was convinced that if Hans was in league with the witch that had shown up and inflicted the curse on Westergaards, he wouldn’t be spontaneously freezing. At the same time, Anna couldn’t be sure that Hans wouldn’t try and take advantage of the situation if he were free. Currently, he was next in line to the throne should something happen to Grete.

Anna paused, surely Elsa and Grete had already thought of that. It dawned on Anna that the flimsy excuse that Hans could be in on the witch’s plot, was just that, a flimsy excuse to neutralize the real threat Hans possessed. Should he want to try and seize power, his bloodline was a pretty hefty point in his corner, and Anna wondered if it was enough to usurp Grete.

No one wanted to show their hand, especially not to Hans.

Suddenly the gravity of Hans being in such close proximity to Anna at all times became very apparent. She would be left out of a lot of conversations between Elsa and Grete.

That bothered her more than it should have. Anna hugged her arms, feeling very much alone in a room full of people. The realization that she would be out of the loop, and not be Elsa’s main confidante hurt. In trying to help, Anna had effectively cut herself off from Elsa, and isolated herself from almost all the goings on in the palace.

In a chair that sat out of the way, but in clear view of everything, sat Carol. The woman had been quietly and furiously working on her rosemaling while the room was being set up. Putting her work down, she announced rather tartly that Anna would be needing a bath drawn. Anna silently thanked her lady in waiting. Leave it to Carol to make sure Anna was well looked after, and kept to routine even though everything else had pretty much gone to hell within the last few days.

When the servant came to announce that Anna’s bath was ready, it had gotten Hans’s attention. He stirred from his position, and rolled over to peer at Anna with interest through the bars. He said nothing, just tilted his head sideways, lounging on his bench, watching her. Anna averted her eyes, there was something about his gaze that rattled her, and not in a bad way. She quickly admonished the thought.

Carol noticed his attention right away, and gave him such a scathing look that Anna bit back an ill-advised giggle. Carol nearly pushed Anna into the adjoining room, firmly shutting the door, and checking the lock.

“The nerve of that man.” Carol scowled as she undid the lacings on Anna’s corset. “Cheeky scoundrel, staring like that! Next, he’ll be wanting his cage beside your bed, mark my words.”

Anna rolled her eyes. Carol was wound up so tightly over this whole arrangement that she was reading far too much into things. Anna knew better than anyone that Hans was most definitely not interested in any of her womanly attributes. Anna’s ‘virtues’ were safe in Hans’s presence. Hans had no interest in her _that_ way. He’d never had. Any inclination of that in the past had been a lie. Hans was only looking because he was bored.

Regardless, it had riled up Carol, but it was useless to say that to her. She was taking her job as chaperone very seriously, and would probably double her efforts more so thanks to Hans doing something as plain as looking at Anna.

Carol kept on muttering insults against Hans all while lecturing Anna throughout Anna’s bath.

Anna heaved a sigh _. So much for a relaxing soak_.

If Carol had any clue of the things Anna had already done with Kristoff, Anna would never hear the end of it. She’d probably never be allowed to be alone anywhere with anyone ever again.

Anna sank lower into the tub, wishing she hadn’t thought of Kristoff, all while wishing Kristoff was here. More than anything, Anna longed to hear his voice. She found that she desperately needed his steady brand of reassurance, especially now that things were spiralling out of control. She’d never felt more lost. Anna had never faced a real crisis without him. She missed him, and needed him here to anchor her and keep her grounded. She needed her rock.

“Time to get out before you prune, Princess,” Carol said as she held up a robe. “It’s getting late, and it’s been a very long day.”

Anna nodded, she couldn’t agree more with that. It had been a very long day. She dried off and slipped into the nightgown Carol had laid out. It was the warmest one she had packed, though Anna suspected that Carol had chosen it for its high collar and large, billowy shape, instead of taking the weather into account. Carol insisted on braiding Anna’s hair for bed, another absurdly prude idea. Apparently, Carol didn’t want anyone getting any wicked thoughts upon seeing Anna’s wild and unruly hair in the morning.

Of course, none of Carol’s precautions had stopped Hans from staring at Anna when she entered the room. Anna was sure that there was nothing Carol could do that would keep Hans’s attention off of her, now that he knew how much it angered Carol. It was a way to pass time for him.

He had nothing else to occupy himself with in his cell. Anna thought maybe tomorrow she would ask if he could get some books or something. She knew that Hans provoking Carol would get old pretty fast. Anna tugged ruefully at the tight collar of her nightgown. After all, she was the one suffering the consequences.

Anna purposely ignored Hans, refusing to even look in his direction as she climbed into bed. Instead, she deliberately picked up one of the books on the Southern Isles that had been brought up for her to read.

Grete had selected a collection of tomes for them to search through, hoping to find something related to the curse. It turned out the new Queen was an avid scholar, and didn’t seem to comprehend that while Elsa shared her passion and enthusiastically took to the massive books, Anna did not.

At least this book was on Southern Isles legends and lore, a much more interesting read than the bland, historical book Anna had been reading earlier in the dungeon. Perhaps she could find something helpful in this book.

She skimmed the table of contents, her eyes grazing across stories of draugar, grims, mares, and nokkens, to rest finally on _trolls_.

Excitement bubbled up inside her. She wasn’t aware that the Southern Isles had trolls. Trolls could help! If someone knew where to find them. Of course, someone in the palace would know, Anna decided. Any royal should. Trolls worked their magic closely with the rulers of kingdoms. She and Elsa frequently visited the Arendelle trolls. They were, after all, Kristoff’s adopted family, and the ones who had revealed how to thaw a frozen heart with an act of true love.

“You have trolls!” Anna blurted out.

One of the guards cleared his throat. “Yes, Princess.”

“That’s wonderful!” Anna gushed. “We just need to go tell the trolls, and they’ll know what to do!”

The guard laughed uncomfortably. “I’m afraid that’s considered taboo. Nobody speaks to the trolls, my lady. We keep to ourselves and they keep to themselves. It has always been that way on the Southern Isles.”

“Oh,” Anna answered, her excitement fading. She was about to ask why it was taboo to seek out the trolls when loud footsteps in the hallway brought all the guards quickly to attention.

The door to her room burst open without warning. A frantic palace guard stood in the doorway, shouting, “The witch is back! We need more men in the south wing to stop the breech!”

The guard Anna had been speaking to barked orders to the men assigned to her room. Of the four, two were to leave, two were to stay. The two men leaving drew their swords and rushed from the room. The door was quickly closed and bolted behind them.

“It’s unlikely anyone will make it to us before the situation is handled,” the lead guard reassured a distraught Carol. “This wing hasn’t been occupied in ages, and there is no sense in evacuating right into danger. Still, it might be best to get dressed and be ready to flee the castle if need be.”

Carol didn’t need to hear any more to move into action and usher Anna out of bed. “Come, Princess Anna, let’s get you dressed.”

* * *

Tension hung heavily in the air as Anna’s small party waited quietly in her room. The two remaining guards stood ready at the door, listening for any sound in the hallway. Carol was pacing nervously, wringing her hands in distress. Even Hans was alert in his cage, watching the door and listening. Anna swallowed hard, the waiting was unbearable. She wasn’t sure how long they had all sat in silence, but it felt like hours.

Anna hated not knowing what was happening, but most of all she hated being away from Elsa. She should be at her sister’s side, not hiding in an abandoned wing of the palace. She ground her teeth in frustration. This was all her doing. If she hadn’t agreed to Hans’s request, she would be with Elsa right now. She’d be helping, she’d know what was going on, she be doing… _something_ , instead of just waiting in silence for any sign as to what was happening beyond the door.

The guards at the door stiffened, their hands hovering over their blades, ready to draw them out if need be. Anna froze, not daring to breathe. Very faintly she could hear it—footsteps coming down the hall towards them.

Hans addressed the guards in a hushed voice, “You need to open this cage.”

It was the first time anyone spoke since they’d found out the castle was under attack.

The head guard didn’t look at Hans. “We don’t know who that is coming yet.”

“Only two sets of boots,” the second guard murmured with relief. “It’s got to be Sig and Fritz coming back.”

Hans shook his head. “I know those boots,” he answered firmly. “It’s my brothers coming. Unlock the cage.”

The head guardsman debated Hans’s words. He looked skeptical, but nevertheless cautious. “Princess, you and your lady get to the closet and hide, stay quiet.”

Anna nodded, ushering Carol towards the closet while the head guard moved towards the cage, key in hand. Anna had just made it to the closet before a loud cracking sound thundered against the door. She turned in horror to see the bedroom door splinter, and the guard guarding it knocked back from the impact. There was unnatural strength behind such an attack, and Anna feared the door wouldn’t hold after another hit.

The head guard rushed back to the door to help brace it, abandoning Hans to his cage. Anna quickly swung the closet door open and shoved Carol inside just as the second assault against the bedroom door came. This time, the force was much greater and the door exploded in a flurry of broken wood. The two guards fell back from the force, taking the brunt of the splintered wood.

Anna would never make it into the closet without being seen. If she tried, she would risk Carol’s safety. Inside the closet, Carol stared at Anna with tears brimming, shaking her head in objection as Anna softly shut the door on her. At least this way one of them would hopefully be safe.

With her back against the closet, Anna looked for some sort of weapon as two men, Westergaard princes as Hans had said, entered the room.


	9. Chapter 8

The two Westergaard princes stepped over the threshold of debris in the doorway with little concern, their colourless eyes glinting wickedly as the two guards tried to hold them off from entering further.

The princes did not move as woodenly as they had the last time Anna had seen them. The witch had improved her puppetry, or perhaps, the brothers were now completely under her influence and obeyed without question. Their appearance remained much the same, still the sickening pale blue skin, and still the layer of frost coating their bodies, this time though, their eyes were a solid white, devoid of any colour.

The guards fought the two men, but it was a lost cause. Elsa had been right, the palace guards were no match for the power the witch possessed. The abnormal increase of strength in the princes left the guardsmen at a severe disadvantage.

A scream caught in Anna’s throat as one guard was run through almost immediately by a prince’s blade. It happened so fast that Anna wasn’t sure exactly what she had just witnessed. Anna watched in terror as the guard fell, crimson spilling in a pool around him. It took a moment for her to register it was blood. She had never seen such quantities before, nor had she ever seen a man die in front her. She stood numb, unable to move as the macabre tableau played out before her.

Someone was shouting at her from across the room, away from the scene that kept her immobile, but it barely registered to her ears. It was like being dunked into water, hearing only muffled voices from the surface. She could not tear her eyes away from the battle at the door.

“The key, Anna! The key! Get the key!” the voice screamed at her. “For God’s sake, Anna, get the key! It’s right there!”

“The key,” she repeated dimly, trying to make sense of what was being said to her. It was hard to concentrate when everything around her seemed so surreal. Slowly, and in a daze, she turned her head towards the voice. It was Hans shouting at her from the cage.

Common sense came flooding back once she had averted her eyes from the carnage by the door. The key! Of course! Hans was still locked in his cage. She frantically scanned the floor in the direction Hans was desperately pointing. She saw the key ring lying halfway between the cage and the bedroom door. The head guard must have dropped it when he had rushed back to help hold the door.

Anna moved, adrenaline finally kicking in and putting her body to motion. She dashed towards the key ring. Something wet and warm splashed across the side of her face. Blood. Out of her peripheral vision she saw the head guardsman falling to the floor. She was now alone with the two princes unless she could get to Hans and free him.

It was certainly a risk, and Anna had to bank solely on the fact that Hans would help because he needed her alive. Without her, Hans would suffer the same fate as his brothers or worse. She had to trust that he was innocent in this whole matter.

The two princes advanced on her as she dove towards the key, her body dropping just out of reach as one prince made a clumsy grab for her. Snatching the key ring from the floor, Anna rolled out of the way as the other prince brought a sword down. She scrambled up and bolted towards the cage, clutching the key for dear life as she ran.

The locked cage door faced the back of the room, which presented Anna with another unfortunate disadvantage. She would have very little time before she became trapped.

Anna made it to the cage and rounded it quickly to the locked door. Her small size and speed became an asset against the two brothers, who were much larger and slower. She recovered much quicker than they from their botched attack. Her heart pounded as she shoved the iron key into the lock, and turned it, never taking her eyes from the two men.

The princes advanced towards the cage slowly, one going on each side in an attempt to corner her. Any direction she tried to move, a prince was waiting. They moved carefully and purposefully, ready to grab at her whichever way she decided to run.

She had wasted too much time now and had effectively trapped herself behind the cage. Suddenly, one prince moved quickly, lunging towards her in an attempt to spook her and have her run right into the other. Either way, she would be caught now. If not by the advancing brother, then by the other one she was being herded towards.

Their flaw had been in ignoring Hans. He reached through the bars and grabbed the waiting brother, yanking him towards the cage. He snaked his arm around the man’s neck and held him tightly in a choke hold through the bars, giving Anna an out.

“Run!” he shouted, gripping his brother’s neck savagely.

Hans didn’t have to tell her twice. She bolted the moment the opportunity for escape presented itself.

The other brother wasted no time dashing after her as Anna ran towards the exit. She heard crashing and clanging behind her, and made the mistake of turning to look. She lost her balance, slipping in the blood pooled by the door. She hit the floor painfully, and came face to face with one of the dead guardsman. She scurried to right herself as the brother advanced on her, sword drawn high.

It was sheer reflex that she reached for the sword of the fallen guardsman. Feeling the steel in her hands, she brandished it poorly in front of her as she tried to keep a solid stance. The prince chasing her laughed.

He batted the sword from her hands as one would bat away a fly. It knocked from her grasp, and clamoured pitifully to the ground. Out of options, she backed away, slipping in the slick pool of death spilled at the door, trying in vain to prolong the inevitable swing of the prince’s sword.

The sword came down just as the blur of a man intercepted it, and Anna heard the clashing of metal before she recognized Hans in front her, wielding a sword and keeping the brother at bay.

Immediately, Anna searched for the second prince. Someone would have to be on the look out for the other one while Hans fought this one. She saw him trapped in the cage Hans had previously been imprisoned in. Somehow, Hans had managed to get himself out while trapping his brother in. The weaponless man was railing against the bars like an animal. Anna flinched as the iron bars seemed to bend against his weight. It would not hold him for very long.

It was an unnatural amount of strength the princes possessed, and by all accounts, Hans should not have been able to counter it. The guards had not been able to. Yet, here Hans was, holding his own against their last assailant. With a growl, he launched an attack against his brother that was almost too quick for the eye.

Anna gasped as the prince’s sword arm was suddenly disconnected from the body, and flew lifeless through the air. It hit the floor with a thump, much like the sound a log would make hitting the ground, followed by the crash of the sword it held. Anna stared in shock. Hans had cut off his brother’s arm. Yet, there was no gore, no blood. The wound was solid and clean. Frozen, Anna realized. The prince was frozen solid through and through.

The lack of appendage did not stop the prince. Hadn’t even hindered him, aside from moving towards the discarded flesh to reclaim it, and the sword. It was in that brief moment when the attention was off of them that Hans was shoving her out the door in retreat.

“Go, go, go!” he urged, the panic clear as a bell in his voice. The last Anna had seen of the inside of the room was the brother seemingly reattaching his arm, as though it was nothing.

“Did you see that?” Anna asked in disbelief as they ran down the corridor.

Hans didn’t answer.

“His arm!” Anna elaborated on the verge of hysterics. “He put his _arm_ _back on_!”

“I saw,” Hans answered preoccupied. He stopped abruptly at a door in the darkened hallway.

Anna almost tripped over her skirts coming to such a quick halt. “We can’t stop, we have to get to Elsa, to Grete—”

“Here!” Hans said to himself more than to her, as he pushed the door open. “In here.”

“They’re coming,” Anna cried. “We can’t hide! We have to get out of here!”

Hans wasn’t listening. He yanked her through the doorway just as the princes emerged from the room down the hall. They’d been spotted and had very little time as the two men followed after. Hans shut the door and locked it for all the good that would do.

The room was doused in darkness once the door was shut, save for two vertical slits of light where the curtains met on the twin windows on the opposite wall. Anna heard Hans move away from her, but couldn’t see where he went. Moments later, she heard him whisper to her in the darkness.

“The window, Anna, quickly. Go open up the far window, curtains and all, then come over here. Fast as you can, now hurry!”

Anna gave a nervous glance at the door before doing as she was told. She had no idea what Hans was planning, but at this point she had little else to rely on. She had no ideas of her own, and at the very least, should they be caught again, Hans could match his brothers in a fight.

She pulled back the thick curtain on the far window, and moonlight softly illuminated the room. The window latch moved easily for being in an unused wing of the castle, and Anna had no trouble opening it up at all. The air was crisp but calm, the night sky clear. Such an oddly peaceful night for all the horror that had transpired.

With the room now dimly lit from the moonlight, Anna could see Hans waiting for her at a side wall covered in elaborately carved wood panelling. One panel was uncharacteristically darker than the rest. As she approached Hans, she could see that it was not in fact darker, but actually an entrance way. A secret passage within the walls.

“We’ve little time left,” he whispered, steering her through the entrance. He followed after, softly closing the panel behind them. It made the barest of noises sliding shut. The moment it was sealed, they were encased in absolute blackness.

The narrow passage was not meant for two people side by side, but Anna welcomed knowing that Hans was right there beside her. It was an odd comfort, knowing she was not alone in the darkness, but knowing that she was also with a man who had once left her for dead.

Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Anna was not one to complain. She wasn’t sure how badly she’d panic if she lost track of Hans in the dark, within the walls of an unfamiliar palace. It was better to be with him than not.

She jumped, inhaling sharply when she heard the brothers enter the room. The familiar crack and splintering of wood almost had her shrieking, had it not been for Hans quickly covering her mouth with his hand.

“Not a sound,” he cautioned with a low whisper in her ear. Anna nodded, regaining her composure as best as she could. Hans kept his hand over her mouth anyway. She didn’t protest.

Heavy footsteps moved quickly to the opposite side of the room. Everything happening in the room could be heard clearly from behind the panel where they hid. And if Anna could hear everything in the room, it meant she could be heard in the passage.

“Shit,” one said to the other. “They’ve gone out the window.”

“Do you see them?”

“No. It’s Hans though. He could have gone anywhere or nowhere by now. I’ll take out here, you check the rest of rooms. He’ll have to duck back in somewhere, I’ll wager. The princess is still with him.”

“Unless she fell.” One sniggered.

“We’d have heard the scream. Now go.”

Footsteps thumped across the floor back to the door and disappeared down the hall while the quick rustle of the other slipping through the window could be heard.

Hans didn’t move right away. He remained as still as a statue for what felt like an eternity to Anna. She wasn’t about to say anything, let alone even move unless Hans did. When he did finally move, the hand that had been covering her mouth grabbed her hand firmly. He slipped past her deeper into the passage way, beginning to make his way though the dark, and leading her by the hand in silence.

It was the most dreadful feeling in the world having to rely on someone she didn’t trust, but Anna had to believe that Hans would keep her safe. If anyone had come after the two princes to find her, they would have no idea where she was, or what had happened. No one would know to look for her in a hidden passageway.

Her stomach churned as she followed Hans through the pitch-black passage. She’d never be able to find her way back if she lost Hans. Anna had already lost track of how many turns they had taken. He was leading her through what felt like a labyrinth of twists and turns. She was starting to question if Hans even knew where he was going, but she didn’t dare ask. How anyone could navigate without light in here was beyond her.

Anna’s mind was still reeling from the events that had transpired. With no conversation between Hans and herself, she was left with her own thoughts. She swallowed the rising lump of fear in her throat. Those guardsmen were dead, and Carol…

Anna squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears. If anything had happened to poor, dear Carol…

Hans slowed his quick, quiet pace, and Anna accidentally stepped on his heels. For the first time since they had entered the passage, he let go of her hand. Panic seeped in from every corner of the dark the moment her hand was empty of his. She knew she was being irrational, but she _needed_ to know she wasn’t alone. That tiny physical comfort of knowing she had company, even if it was Hans, was the only thing keeping her from completely breaking down. She reached her hand out in front of her for Hans, only to find him gone.

“Hans?” Her voice sounded shrill in the still of the absolute blackness.

“There’s a bit of a drop here, you’re going to have to jump down,” he said quietly, his voice not that far ahead of her. “I’ll go first.”

“I can’t see where I’m going!”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s fine. About seven paces. I’ll be right there at the bottom. Just inch until you feel your feet at the ledge and come down.”

With that, she heard the flap of his tailcoat, and the soft thud of Hans landing on his feet below. Anna gulped, slowly shuffling forward, tentatively sweeping her foot out to graze the floor before stepping.

_It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fi—_

_‘—One that should not be!’_

Anna inhaled sharply, doubling back in fear. That voice, it was right beside her, right in her ear. Cold dread washed over her like ice water.

They were not alone in here.


	10. Chapter 9

Someone—no, some _thing—_ was in the passage with them. Anna could feel it in the air. She could smell it, the pungent scent of damp, rotting earth and stagnant water. It assaulted her nostrils, and she gagged.

She hadn’t imagined that terrible, gravelly voice from before. It was here with her now. And it was real. She felt the cold breath on her ear and neck as those horrible words were hissed at her again.

‘ _One that should not be!_ ’

Panic took rise when she could hear it laughing all around her; circling her as a predator would. Ancient, malicious, and mocking, as if it somehow knew she’d just realized it was real and not something she had made up. Everything went cold. The laughter came from every which way, startling her in each new direction she turned. She had to get away, she had to run—

“Come on already!” Hans’s irritated voice broke through the laughter.

Everything stopped.

Everything went still.

Whatever had been in the passage way was gone. Anna could feel no trace of the presence anymore. Everything felt normal again.

“It’s not that far down, now come on!” Hans snapped.

Anna stood dumbfounded, her heart pounding in her chest. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Hans was speaking to her as if nothing had just happened.

“Y-you didn’t hear it?” she asked, hardly trusting her voice to work. “Smell it?”

“What are you talking about?”

_Oh God. I’m going crazy_ , she thought, rubbing her hands over her face. _I’m losing it._

“There was something in here just now…” her voice trailed off. Her body shook just thinking about it.

Hans groaned, clearly at the end of his patience. “There is nothing in here. Your mind is playing tricks on you—”

“It told me I shouldn’t be,” Anna murmured, more to herself than to Hans.

“What?” he asked sharply.

“ _One that should not be_ ,” she repeated slowly. “That’s what it said to me.”

Hans didn’t answer her, or say anything to her right away.

After a moment, he spoke, “Follow my voice to ledge, Anna. We’re almost out.”

It was strange how quickly her fear ebbed, and melted away, as if it were nothing. As if it had all been in her head.

_Yes, that must be it, all in my head. It’s everything that’s happened. I’m in shock._

Shock.

The thought lulled her into a sense of security. It made sense.

It was shock.

She was in shock.

Her mind was just trying to comprehend, trying to deal with everything that had happened since the ball. Her brain was trying to cope with trauma. It was manifesting these irrational fears of the dark, this anxiety at being alone, the voices…everything.

_We’re not out of this yet,_ she told herself fiercely _. Keep it together. Get to Elsa._

_Elsa._

The thought of Elsa her gave her courage, renewed her strength. She had to keep going because Elsa would need her help, and Elsa would need to know that Anna was okay. Whatever they were going to face, they would do it together. She had to get to Elsa no matter what.

Without another thought on the matter, she continued to move towards where she had heard Hans. She found the ledge safely, and sat down, dangling her feet over the edge.

“I’m here,” was all she said before she pushed off, slipping her bum over the edge. She dropped down, and Hans caught her before her feet hit the ground. It was strange landing in his arms, especially in the dark, where she couldn’t see him and could only feel him.

Anna hated to admit that it felt safe and warm in his arms, a sort of reassurance she didn’t know she needed. She nervously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, clearing her throat politely when Hans didn’t release her right away, holding her longer than she had expected.

“There now, see?” he said softly, finally putting her down. “Not that far of a drop at all. After this landing, the rest of the stairs are still intact.”

He retrieved his sword from the ground before taking her hand again with his free one. The immediate contact had her instantly at ease. She just felt safer this way. Anna wasn’t sure, but she thought his grip was tighter than it had been before.

Hans was right, from there on, it was a couple small flights of steps down, and a bit of a ways along a corridor before they reached an exit. Hans stopped suddenly again, this time with Anna actually bumping into him. She immediately backed up. She felt nervous touching him, like she shouldn’t be initiating it, even by accident. And yet she had allowed him multiple liberties with her person.

_That’s different_ , she argued to herself. She hadn’t done it out of want, but out of necessity. Any time he’d touched her, it had been necessary. He was simply keeping her with him, simply keeping them safe.

“Be ready,” he cautioned in a low voice. “We’ll head towards the armoury, then make our way through the barracks, and to the stables.”

“I need to get to Elsa!” Anna said in hushed tones.

“Anna,” he replied tensely, “we don’t have time. We don’t know how badly the palace has fallen, we don’t even know where your sister is. Our first priority is to get the hell out of here.”

“That’s _your_ first priority.” Anna huffed angrily, still keeping her voice low. “ _Mine_ is finding Elsa.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I’m going to find my sister!”

Hans sighed in frustration. “You’re no good to either of us dead!”

His comment was like a slap in the face.

Anna halted, swallowing hard and ignoring the sting of his words. “I don’t care. Elsa needs to know I’m all right, and I need to know she’s all right.”

“This is suicide!”

“You don’t know that!” Anna argued back. “How do you know your route is safe? You don’t! And besides, if I can thaw you, don’t you think I should at least try it on your brothers?”

“ _Try it on my_ —have you gone insane?” Hans practically shouted, before quickly taking his volume down. “You couldn’t get near Ulrik or Georg without them trying to lop your head off! Ulrik bent an iron cage! I cut off Georg’s arm, and he _put it back on_ like it was nothing!”

“But you can match them! I saw you! You could distract them while I—”

“—Absolutely not!”

“We have to try!”

“Oh my God.” He groaned. His voice was muffled, as though he was running his hands down his face in frustration. “Will you just stop and _listen_ to yourself? We are no match for them, okay? I barely got us out of that. Do you understand? We just barely survived _two_ of them.”

“But you did match Georg! Not even the guards could do what you did—”

“Listen to me,” Hans bit back harshly, “because I will only say this to you once; I am the thirteenth prince. I am the youngest. I am the _weakest_. There is absolutely nothing I can do, regardless of how hard I try, that one of my brothers does not do better. Does not excel in. Understand? I’m the throw away, I’m the nobody. The unlucky one. I cannot best any of them.”

Anna was speechless. Surely Hans didn’t really believe that? That went against everything she knew about Hans. Hans was always so confident, so self assured. He was quicker and cleverer than anyone she knew. He was diabolical, calculating, ruthless—how could he possibly think he was inferior to his siblings? She wished she could see his face, read his expression, but in the dark, all she had were his words and inflections.

“Look…” He sighed in resignation. “If it’s safe to search for your sister, maybe we can look around, but we stick to my route, got it?”

“Thank you.” Anna smiled with relief. She had expected to have to fight him on finding Elsa. Instead he was being agreeable. It was not what she had expected from him.

“Ready?” he asked before slowly sliding the panel door open.

Anna took a deep breath as the light blinded her briefly. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the castle, then laughed to herself. It wasn’t even that bright, just lamp light from the sconces along the walls. She followed after Hans, stepping gingerly out from the passageway. Once they were out, Hans slid the panel shut. The entrance blended perfectly into the wall.

It should have been a relief to be out from the narrow passage in the walls, but once out in the main hall, Anna felt exposed. She kept close to Hans, who motioned to her to stay behind him as he kept his sword ready. The hall was empty, and surprisingly quiet, but the evidence of battle was clear. At least a snow battle. The hall was covered in large snow drifts and icicles.

Anna wasn’t sure whose snow it was. There was no way of telling whether this was Elsa’s work, or the witch’s…or both.

Anna gulped. She hoped Elsa was okay.

Hans swore under his breath as he surveyed the snow. “There goes sneaking around. We can easily be followed now. Try and step in the places where the snow hasn’t drifted.”

Anna stared down the hallway. It was an impossible task, there were hardly any places on the floor that were untouched by snow.

“It’s too quiet,” Anna noted, following Hans, only hearing the crunch of their feet in the snow as they made their way down the hall.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Just…stay close.”

Anna shivered the further down the hall they went. The temperature had dipped considerably from where they had begun. The snow drifts had gotten higher, and the floor was completely blanketed in snow. There was no way to avoid stepping in it now.

Hans took the first step into the deeper snow. The moment the weight of his foot hit the ground, something shot up from beneath him out of the snow. He gave a startled cry, and jumped back, nearly knocking Anna over.

“Son of a bitch!” His sword wavered slightly as he kept it directed at the object in front of them.

Anna frowned at the thing they had just unearthed. It had sunk back into the snow mound when Hans had stepped back, but not entirely. Part of it was sticking up like a gnarled branch, except it was the wrong colour for a tree, and it seemed to be wrapped in fabric…

“Oh God!” Anna inhaled sharply, her hand covering her mouth in shock as she realized what it was she was looking at.

_An arm._

A frozen arm had shot up from the snow.

It wasn’t moving, even with Hans tentatively poking at it with his sword. He was jumpy, and rather ungainly while he inspected the arm sticking up from the snow. Hans was just as rattled as she was. That should have been a comfort to her. It wasn’t.

“It’s a palace guard sleeve,” Hans commented. He stuck his foot out, using it to shovel snow from around the arm. Anna watched, appalled as the body of a man was slowly revealed from Hans’s digging.

The guard was most certainly dead, she could see that as Hans carefully stepped down on the frozen man where his boot would have landed the first time. The body rocked, frozen stiff, the arm jutting up as Hans stepped down on the torso—like a seesaw. Hans tested the weight of his foot on the body a few more times to make absolutely sure the man was not alive, and that it was not some sort of trap, but an unhappy accidental step.

“Stop it!” Anna cried, unable to watch anymore. “He’s dead, okay?”

“Hmmm?” Hans stepped off the body, leaning his weight back onto his other foot. He stared down at the man, seemingly lost in thought. “What an unfortunate end.”

“Come on,” she said, as bravely as she could muster. “We have to find Elsa.” She tugged on Hans’s sleeve when he didn’t immediately turn away from the body. “Hans?”

“I knew him,” Hans said quietly. “I recognize his face, but I don’t know his name.”

“I’m sorry,” Anna answered truthfully.

“It’s no matter.” Hans shrugged. He stepped away from the body, and began moving forward through the snow. “It’s not like I knew him well or we were friends.”

They continued on in silence, trudging through the drifts until they heard the sound of clashing swords and shouting in one of the adjoining rooms. One voice rang out above all the others, and Anna instantly recognized her sister belting out orders.

“Elsa!” Anna shouted excitedly, beelining her way towards the door as quickly as she could.

“Anna!” Hans cried in alarm, clumsily trailing after her. “Wait!”

But there was no stopping Anna. She was singular in her desire to reach her sister, and nothing would stand in her way. Not while she was so close. As long as she was with Elsa, she would be fine. She was sure of it. Together they would come up with a plan to stop the witch and break the curse.

The double doors were blocked by a small snow drift, but the doors would open easy enough against the powdery snow. She grasped the handles in both hands, and proceeded to pull them open. The snow drift stopped up the doors as she tugged them opened, but there was enough room for Anna to squeeze through.

She entered a room of pure chaos. No one had noticed her entrance as she scanned the gigantic room. A thick blanket of snow covered the entire floor. Snow and ice swirled manically through the air, pelting her face as she searched for Elsa. She noted vaguely that this was the throne room, though it was hardly recognizable.

Almost immediately, Anna found Elsa at the far back of the room, this time with multiple ‘ _Marshmallows_ ’, or giant sentient snow monsters, at her side. They were protecting Queen Grete, and a number of palace guards. Anna did a quick tally of the princes, counting ten in all, and no sign of the witch.

_Three adversaries at large_ , she decided before making her way into the room towards Elsa. The princes were preoccupied with the snow monsters and a number of guards. Anna wondered if she could sneak up behind one of the princes and see if she could thaw them too. They were distracted, and Anna decided she was quick enough to at least try.

The one closest even had his back turned to her. It would be so easy as long as she was fast enough. She could try thawing a prince, and then rush to Elsa. She could already see which path would work best.

But Anna was terrified to get closer. Remembering her earlier encounter with Ulrik and Georg made her legs weak with dread. Her conversation with Hans on the matter wasn’t helping either. She took a deep breath, fear would not save the Southern Isles. She had to be brave. She had to be like Elsa. She had to do this. If this worked…

She counted to ten slowly in her head, tying to muster up the courage to move. She was about to take a step towards the prince closest to her when a hand grabbed her arm roughly from behind. Without hesitation, her captor yanked her backwards while simultaneously moving themselves forward and in front of her. He maintained the position of her protector, just like he’d been doing the entire she had been with him.

Anna wasn’t sure how she could have forgotten Hans so easily. She’d spent the entire evening in his company, and they’d just been through hell together. She knew that he’d follow her, having no choice in the matter. His life and freedom depended on her.

Still, she was shocked that he would willingly step into harm’s way, and help her reach one of his brothers. She was slightly ashamed of herself for abandoning him so quickly when she found Elsa, and admitted silently that it had been a rude thing to do, even to Hans.

The two silently crept up on the prince, Anna much braver now that she had Hans and his sword there. She felt confident that this would work. If it was true that she held on to some residual magic as Grete had suggested, then she should be able to thaw a prince just as she had done with Hans. A single touch would be all she needed.

Closing in quickly, Anna was now within reach to grab at the prince’s face from behind. Hans moved silently, and slightly to her side to give her the best advantage. Before her nerves got the better of her, she reached up towards the unsuspecting man and grabbed his face from behind with both hands.

Unbearable cold pain shot up her fingertips the moment she’d made contact. Anna cried out in agony, snatching her hands back almost immediately. She clasped her hands to her chest, shivering. Her fingers went completely numb as her hands ached in pain from the intense cold. She stared at her hands in disbelief.

_It didn’t work._

The prince rounded on her with ungodly speed, only to be blocked by Hans. She recognized him as Lennart, the pompous and needlessly petty prince from the ball. She staggered backwards, hastily trying to gain distance from him as he and Hans clashed swords.

One of Elsa’s snow monsters crashed across the floor, intercepting Hans’s fight with Lennart. The giant creature plucked Lennart from the ground, and hurled him towards the wall opposite of Anna. Hans used the opportunity to rush back to Anna’s side.

“Anna!” The look of horror on Elsa’s face was palpable as she recognized Anna amongst the battle. “Oh my God, Anna, you have to get out of here!”

“No!” Anna shouted back, still clasping her hands, and fighting the pain as she made her way towards Elsa. If she broke into a hard run she could probably make it.

“You have to!” Elsa pleaded. “I can’t keep you safe!”

“No! I’m not leaving you!”

Elsa straightened up in the most queenly, commanding pose Anna had ever seen. She squared her jaw, tipping her chin up with such severity that Anna cringed when her sister opened her mouth to speak to her, but Elsa’s steely gaze shifted from Anna to Hans.

“Get her out of here,” Elsa commanded in the sternest, coldest voice Anna had ever heard. “Now.”

Before Anna knew it, she was being hoisted from the ground, and flung over Hans’s shoulder. He held her firmly, and headed wordlessly towards the door they had entered from.

“No!” Anna shrieked, kicking and squirming to get free of Hans to no avail. She pounded her fists against his back. The more she beat him, the more agonizing the pain in her frozen hands became, but she continued to fight him. She needed to be with Elsa. They were supposed to face this together!

“Let me go! Elsa!” She stared at her sister in desperation as Hans carried her further and further away. Elsa would not look at her. Instead, Elsa continued to hurl icicles and pull up sheets of ice to aid Hans in his escape with her.

Anna continued to scream at her anyway.

“Elsa, don’t do this! Please! Elsa!”


	11. Chapter 10

Hans did not release her until they reached the palace stables. He carried her, kicking and screaming, through the castle as though she was nothing more than a ragdoll. Anna couldn’t believe that Elsa had done this to her. Her own sister had ordered Hans to take her away.

She had been no match for Hans physically, and was exhausted when he plopped her down in the stables. She was, however, still seething with anger, and glared viciously at him.

“Are you done now?” Hans asked in a rather calm tone as he proceeded to ready a horse. “Because by the way you carried on in there, I’m sure it won’t be long until someone follows us here. It’s bad enough we left a trail in the snow, but I’m sure with your screeching, you alerted everyone to our intended location.”

Anna continued to glare at him.

Hans raised his eyebrows at her. “Not talking, huh? Well, I suppose you being quiet for once is best.” He wasted little time on his mount, and walked the ready horse from its stall. Hans returned to the stall and opened a chest placed at the back. Anna wouldn’t have noticed it there had he not gone back and opened it. She watched curiously as he pulled out a dark grey, cloaked greatcoat. He gave it a good hard shake before slipping into it. He pulled a sword and scabbard out and began to fit himself with it in a speed that marveled. If Anna didn’t know better, it appeared that Hans was prepared for quick escapes.

He nodded to the wall behind her. “Extra cloaks are there. I suggest you take one. The Southern Isles aren’t known for their balmy, warm nights.”

Still glaring, Anna went and retrieved a cloak for herself from the wall, and put it on. It was a little big on her, but at least she could curl her hands up in it for warmth. The pain from the cold she had experienced earlier from touching Lennart had nearly faded away, but her finger tips were still numb and cold.

“She did the right thing, you know that, right?” Hans had moved on to another horse, petting it gently on the head, before hopping over the gate into the stall. “We didn’t stand a chance in there. Not against ten of them, even with your sister. And she wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything but keeping you safe. You were a hindrance, her weak spot.”

“Shut up,” Anna muttered. She already knew all of that deep down, she didn’t need to hear Hans say it out loud.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Hans continued, blatantly ignoring her sour mood. “You did everything you said you wanted to. You found your sister, now she knows you’re okay, and you tried thawing Lennart—” He turned to her abruptly. “How are your hands, by the way? And no lying. Don’t think I didn’t notice you got hurt touching him.”

His question startled her out of her misery. She hadn’t expected Hans to care. “They’re…still cold, and my finger tips are numb, but the pain is almost gone.”

“Do you think you can ride?”

“Yeah.”

He patted the horse beside him. “This is Blomme, she’s a good, steady mount, comfortable with strangers riding her, but it wouldn’t hurt to offer her up a sugar cube or two from that bask—”

A twig snapped sharp and clear outside the stable. Anna froze where she was standing. Quick and careful as a cat, Hans hopped up over the stall. He jerked his head towards his mount and mouthed the words, “ _Get on the horse_ ” as he slowly drew his new blade.

Anna made her way quickly over to Hans’s horse, and hoisted herself up into the saddle. Two shadows loomed in the doorway of one of the stable’s two entrances. Hans cursed as two more shadows appeared at the opposite entrance. Four of his brothers had arrived.

Hans made a soft clicking noise with his tongue that the horse Anna sat on responded to.

She gave a shriek as the horse bolted towards the nearest exist. Anna clutched the horse’s reins as the horse reared up against one of the princes, knocking him to the ground with a clomping of hooves. As soon as the path was clear, the horse galloped off into the night with Anna holding on for dear life. The beast was agitated, taking Anna in long, wide circles around the stables, screeching in distress. She had no control over the animal at all, and began to worry it would throw her.

A sharp, shrill whistle rang out in the night air. It caught the horse’s attention and it raced back towards the stables with purpose and control. Anna screamed as the horse ran alongside something moving in the dark that caught hold of the saddle, and vaulted onto the horse’s back behind her.

She recognized Hans immediately, and felt stupid for screaming, but in her defense, he was almost invisible in that grey cloak. He took hold of the reins from Anna with one hand, while slipping his other arm around her waist to help keep her secure. They sped through the dark at a harrowing speed, racing through the palace gates, and down the road towards the harbour.

Anna was unsure if they were being followed, or would be. Hans kept a firm grip on her, and she appreciated the stability. She wasn’t sure if she could trust her numb fingers to steady her if she lost her balance. She’d never ridden a horse at the speed they were now going, nor in the dark.

Hans seemed to operate well with low visibility—in the water, in the secret passage, and now out into the night on horse back. Hans hadn’t fitted his horse with a lantern, whether it was from lack of time or not, Anna didn’t know. But he seemed to know exactly where to lead the horse, and the animal responded without hesitation, regardless of how many sharp turns he took. She wondered what sort of pastimes he engaged in that required him to be so familiar with his surroundings in the dark.

Plotting and sneaking immediately came to mind.

It was a grim reminder of exactly who it was Anna was with. And while she still couldn’t believe that Elsa had sent her off with Hans, she knew exactly why Elsa had done it. Elsa was far too pragmatic to waste an opportunity to get Anna to safety. She had known that Anna would never leave her side, no matter the danger or the cost. She also knew that Hans had an acute sense of self preservation. He’d made that all too plain when he’d requested Anna be near him at all times.

When Elsa had appealed to Hans for help, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would keep Anna safe because _he had to_. His life and freedom depended on it. Aside from Elsa herself, there was no one safer for Anna to be with.

Anna sighed. The problem was, with Hans as her companion, it would take a lot of bluffing and convincing to get him to help her. She did not know what she was going to do, nor did she know what Hans planned to do, but she knew she had to do something. She just wasn’t sure what that something was right now.

“We’ve at least an hour till we reach the harbour.” Hans’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I suggest you try to get some rest.”

“What about you?” Anna asked.

“I’m fine.”

“We could take turns—”

“Sitron isn’t a horse you can manage,” he responded curtly.

Anna decided not to press it, she knew she was of little use. She’d already proven she couldn’t ride Hans’s mount, and she had no clue as to how to get to the harbour, aside from the general direction. And lastly, arguing with Hans would offer no real benefit anyway.

She wasn’t sure how she would manage to sleep while sitting up and after everything she had just experienced, but she supposed she could close her eyes for a little bit. She yawned, and the night air made her shiver.

_Just for a little bit_ , she yawned again, closing her eyes.

* * *

The abrupt change in pace woke her. Sitron had gone from a trot to a canter once they reached the empty market square. Anna was surprisingly comfortable for falling asleep while riding. She felt cozy, surrounded by the scent of…sandalwood? Anna opened her eyes, it was still dark. She had not planned on actually sleeping the rest of the trip. Yawning, she tried to gather her thoughts.

She was no longer sitting up straight in the saddle, but leaning back, tucked snuggly into Hans. _He_ smelled like sandalwood, or at least his greatcoat did. She stiffened in embarrassment, and immediately sat up straight. How long had she slept snuggled against him like that? And why did he let her?

“Oh good,” he commented. “You’re awake. Saves me the trouble.”

He made no mention of how she had slept, or if it was an inconvenience for him. Nothing. Anna breathed a sigh of relief. She was mortified to find herself in such a position. Carol would have had a fit to see her so familiar with a man.

“Here we are.” Hans stopped outside of a set of stables. He rigidly dismounted, and Anna could tell he was both sore and exhausted by the awkward way he moved. Nevertheless, he was a gentleman—or at least kept up the appearance of one—and offered her his hand. Normally, Anna would have waved off the offer of aid to dismount, she was a fair rider herself, but she was sore too. Weariness caught up to her the moment she was on her own two feet. Whatever sleep she had gotten had left her groggy rather than refreshed.

“How are your hands?” he asked, that soft lilt back to his voice.

Surprised he even remembered, Anna wiggled her fingers, the pain and numbness completely gone. “They’re fine now.”

“I’m glad.” His cheeks tinged pink. “See? That snooze did you some good.”

Before Anna could answer him, he turned abruptly on his heel to go speak with the Quartermaster. Anna shrugged off his strange behaviour and stretched out her arms and legs while she waited by Sitron. She was certain that the entirety of her thighs and bottom were now bruised. Stretching would help, so she forced herself through the aches.

“We’re in luck,” Hans said as he returned. “Word of the recent castle siege hasn’t reached here yet. We’ll be able to fetch a far better rate now, but we’ve got to hurry.” He grabbed Anna by the hand, leading her towards the docks.

“What do you mean, ‘better rate’?” Anna asked in alarm as she hurried to keep pace with him.

“Sudden passage on a ship shouldn’t cost much more than usual. No one will be taking the opportunity to profit from this crisis yet.”

“What?” Anna stopped short, and Hans nearly tripped.

He turned to her in exasperation. “Not now, Anna. We’ll talk all you want about how it’s wrong for people to take advantage of victimized people once we’re safely aboard—”

“Wait… Your plan is to _run away_?” she asked incredulously.

“Temporarily. I hear Blavenia is nice this time of year, and we can leave at first light.”

“Blavenia?” Anna stared at him in disbelief. “We’re not leaving the Southern Isles. I mean, we don’t even know how long you’ll keep freezing, or if I can continue to—”

“Well, that’s why it’s _temporary_ —”

“This is your home!” she hissed, lowering her voice. “These are your people! You are the only Westergaard in your line not under the control of some crazy-lady witch—which, I might add, is your family’s fault—and you want to abandon everything, and everyone?”

“Technically, _Mother_ is still around—”

“Technically, I don’t give a damn!” Anna seethed with rage. “We are staying here, and we are fixing this!”

“How?” Hans waved his hands angrily. “How am _I_ supposed to fix this? This isn’t even my fault. I’m not the king. I have no babies to bargain with, and even if I did, how could I give up a _child_ as _payment_?” He gave a sardonic, bitter laugh. “That witch would have done well not to have frozen Vilhelm. He’s so greedy, I bet he would have offered up his first born in a heartbeat, and this whole thing would’ve been done with.”

Anna stared at him horrified. “How can you even say that? He’s your brother.”

“This isn’t my home, and these aren’t my people. I don’t owe any of them anything. _My_ people are of the cloth in some sad little monastery on a goddamned hill, a four days ride that way! Or did you forget?”

“That’s what this is about?” Anna gaped at him. Now it made sense why Hans had a hidden chest of supplies ready at the stable. He’d been planning to run away from his fate, and then the curse had happened. “You are unbelievable, you know that? Unbelievable. You were going to use this as an opportunity to avoid becoming a monk!”

“Look,” he said with a frustrated groan. “Your sister can handle this. Grete can handle this. With your sister’s magic and Grete’s brain, they’ve got this. We just need to lay low, out of harm’s way while they figure this out—and they will. It’s not like I’m going to keep you or anything. Just temporarily. You can come back once everything has been settled.” He grabbed her hand before Anna could protest, and started walking again.

Anna snatched her hand from his grasp. “I am most certainly _not_ getting on any ship with you!”

He sighed, straightened his shoulders, and proceeded to speak to her as if he were speaking to a small, petulant child. “Anna, your sister made me your guardian in her stead. You are my charge now, and whether or not either of us like it, you are now under my care and my supervision.”

“I’m not a child!” Anna actually stamped her foot on the ground. “And Elsa did not put you in charge of me.”

“Oh, but she did,” Hans replied rather loftily. “Queen Elsa put you in my care the moment she bade me to take you from the palace. It is my duty to the queen to—”

“Oh, stuff it!” Anna cut in. “I’m a grown woman for heaven’s sake! I can look after myself.”

“You are a high born, unwed, young lady in need of a chaperone—”

“—Says my ex-fiancé who wants to steal me away to ‘ _tropical climates Blavenia_ ’! No one in their right mind would look at us and see a guardian and his charge. Honestly! Do you really expect me to believe you have my best interests at heart?”

Hans stiffened, narrowing his eyes. “All right, fine. Keeping you safe from harm, keeps _me_ safe from harm, and I am not going to jeopardize my wellbeing anymore. We already tried helping, and it _didn’t work_. We did things your way, and it ended in your sister ordering me to take you from her sight. Do you know what that means?” He didn’t give Anna any time to answer before continuing, “It means that we are useless. We are just two more people your sister has to worry about protecting. So, we are getting the hell out of here. You are getting on that ship if I have to carry you kicking and screaming.” He gave a funny little grin as though he’d already won. “And as you are already well aware, I can and will do that.”

“No.” Anna crossed her arms in defiance. “I will not get on that ship.”

There was absolutely no way she was fleeing at dawn’s first light on a ship bound for Blavenia, not while Elsa was still at the palace. Not while people were in danger and needed help. It was not in Anna’s nature to turn tail and run, though apparently Hans had no problems with the idea. He was too concerned with avoiding the monastery to bother with anything else.

_Selfish coward_ , she thought bitterly.

Hans lunged towards her, making a grab for her arm. Anna quickly sidestepped him, neatly avoiding his grasp. She had expected him to resort to force once she defied him. A few sailors loading nearby crates stopped to look.

He growled. “You’re making a scene.”

“No,” Anna answered stepping away again. “You are.”

“Get over here now!”

Anna shook her head. “The way I see it, you need me, but I don’t _really_ need you. And who’s to say that I don’t choose to help you or not if I’m taken by force off the Southern Isles?”

Hans glared at her. His jaw twitched. “You’re not heartless. I know you.” He called her bluff. “You wouldn’t let me die, nor would you let that witch take me. It’s not in your nature.”

“Wouldn’t I? Let’s not forget you left me to die a year ago, and a lot can change in a person in a year. Why shouldn’t I return the same courtesy to you if I felt so inclined to?” Anna gave him the coldest smile she could. She knew it was risky, but she had no choice left. She’d have to play at Hans’s level, and beat him at his own game. Otherwise, he’d take her out of the kingdom.

“You wouldn’t,” Hans repeated, eyeing her carefully.

Was that a hint of doubt in his voice?

Anna schooled her expression to one of calm, stoic reserve. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”

Hans was a man who would bet lots of things on his ability to read situations, but he wouldn’t be willing to bet his own life. Hans claimed to know Anna, but he’d forgotten that she also knew him. If she had to blackmail him with his life to stay in the Southern Isles, then she would. Hans may have thought that they were useless in the crisis, but Anna did not. If she couldn’t be by Elsa’s side, then she would find another way to help. Hans was willing to abandon his people, Anna was not.

“What do you propose then?” he asked, surprisingly civil. “As I’ve already said, I am charged with your safety. I take that very seriously since the consequences are too great. Leaving the Southern Isles is the best option.”

Anna racked her brain for an answer. She hadn’t gotten much further in her plan than convincing Hans that they needed to stay. What did she know about the Southern Isles that could possibly help? Not much. She’d only read a few books in the short time she was here, and those had mostly been old legends and lore. Her eyes widened as the answer came to her.

She knew how to help. She had already made the suggestion earlier. There was only one place to go for advice on curses.

“We go to the trolls,” Anna answered simply. She knew it was ludicrous to suggest such a farfetched solution after learning that the Southern Isles trolls kept to themselves, but she also knew first hand that the trolls would help.

Hans was staring at her like she was mad. “The trolls?” He scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Trolls don’t help anyone.”

“But they do!” Anna insisted. “They helped me—twice! They’ll know how to break the curse. They’ll tell us the answer, and we’ll be able to save you, and your brothers, and the Southern Isles. You’d be a hero, why I bet Vilhelm wouldn’t even send you to the monastery!”

Hans looked skeptical. “Anna…” He sighed in exasperation. “Look, I don’t know what kind of trolls you have in Arendelle, but trust me, trolls _don’t_ help.”

“Well, have you ever met a troll?”

Hans frowned. “No, and in that respect, I’m lucky for it.”

“See? How can you even say the trolls won’t help when you’ve never met one?” Hans opened his mouth to answer, but Anna quickly rattled on, “I have met trolls. My friend was raised by them. Trust me when I say, they’ll help us.”

Hans gave her a long, hard stare, carefully considering their limited options in his head.

“Okay,” he answered finally. “We’ll set out to the eastern woods and seek out the trolls.”

Anna hadn’t expected Hans to agree to her idea so quickly. She was surprised by his answer, but then, she hadn’t given Hans much of a chance to say no either. She had managed to get the upper hand on him. She still wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing.

It was in that dim lamplight by the docks that Anna had forged a strange alliance with the very man who had stalked her dreams and nightmares for the past year. There was no backing out now, not that Anna had a choice to do so. She may have stated to Hans that she didn’t need him, but she did. That much had been obvious in their escape from the palace. Anna was certain that had it not been for Hans, she’d have been dead. She was alive because Hans needed her to be.

She had no illusions this time with the man. Just because she needed him, didn’t mean she trusted him.

Finding passage on a ship this late in the evening had been relatively easy for Hans. Unfortunately, acquiring another horse would not be. They couldn’t return to the palace to get Anna a horse of her own, and Anna doubted very much that any stable master would just willingly sell a horse to a suspicious couple knocking on doors at night.

She followed Hans back to the local stable he had left his horse at. She knew the stable master here wouldn’t have a horse for her, seeing as they only housed horses already belonging to other people, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Hans paid the man, and went to retrieve his steed. He’d made no mention to the man about needing another horse. Anna walked briskly after him, annoyed that he hadn’t bothered to ask about another ride.

Throwing the saddle over Sitron’s back, he looked over his shoulder at Anna. “You’ll ride with me.”

Anna folded her arms across her chest. “You didn’t even ask about another horse! I’m not going to just up and leave, you know.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Hans continued to prepare his horse. “You ride with me.”

Anna stared at him, her suspicions growing. “Why? You know it’s faster if we each had a mount.”

“It’s not faster if we have to search for another horse, and then barter for it at this hour. Plus, it’s suspicious. It’s one thing to talk to sailors, but townsfolk? They talk. We can’t have anyone in town know what we’re doing.” Hans refused to look at her, focusing on his horse instead. “Besides, I trust Sitron. I can’t trust another horse to not throw one of us if it gets spooked.”

Anna narrowed her eyes, watching him avoid eye contact and give far too many excuses. “You’re scared.”

He gave a startled, sharp laugh, and turned his full attention to her. “Of what?”

His face was almost convincing. _Almost_.

“Of freezing again,” she answered softly.

He shook his head, amused. “Ridiculous.” With that, he threw open the stable gate, making Anna jump back with a start. “Let’s go. The longer we stay here, the easier it is to get caught.”

Anna observed his still bare hands, as he helped her onto Sitron’s back. “You’ll need your gloves for riding.”

“I was getting to it,” he mumbled, pulling his gloves from inside his coat. She watched him tug them on in a deliberate, defiant motion; as if to prove what she’d said was wrong. He wiggled his fingers, adjusting the fit. Satisfied, he climbed on behind Anna, keeping her in the front. Anna didn’t bother questioning why she wasn’t behind him. She already knew why, even if he wouldn’t admit to it.

Fear.

She now understood why he had agreed to see the trolls so quickly. It wasn’t because he felt Anna had left him no options. It was because he felt Anna had given the best option. Running away to Blavenia wouldn’t solve his freezing, but visiting the trolls would.

He gave a quick, “Hey yah!” and Sitron responded to his master.

They were off to the eastern woods to find the trolls.


	12. Chapter 11

They rode steady towards the east, passing a small town without passing through it. Hans had said they shouldn’t unless they absolutely had to. They kept to the outskirts, and Anna agreed with the decision, despite how sore and tired she’d become from riding. She knew they would have to stop soon, neither had eaten nor rested, and Sitron could not run forever, especially carrying two riders.

Soon it would be dawn, Anna could see the dark begin to fade on the horizon into the early purple light that heralded the sun. The less people they encountered, the better. There was no sense giving away their position or destination by being seen. Hans, she decided, was easily recognizable as the only Westergaard prince with red hair, even to the outermost towns and islands.

Hans slumped forward, pressing his weight against her in an alarming manner, his hands now slack on the reins. Sitron veered to the side, and Anna scrambled to take hold of the reins and steer him back to the cart-worn road. Hans straightened up with a jolt and a grunt.

“We’re stopping in the next town,” she said.

With Hans nodding off they’d absolutely have to. He didn’t argue. Surely, they had put enough distance between themselves and the palace by now that they could at least rest and get proper supplies.

They arrived at the next town in what Anna estimated was a little over an hour, and it was light by then. The sun shone as villagers began to start their day. Market stalls were being set up, shops were opening, and people were starting to mill about. Anna found the town to be lively and quaint, and couldn’t help look curiously at wares being set out in the market stalls as they passed.

Hans was familiar with the town, he’d gone straight to an inn without asking or needing directions. A young stable hand came to fetch Sitron as Hans helped Anna from the horse, if she would even call it that. He was less cordial this time, opting to simply snatch her by the waist and hoist her down, as opposed to offering his hand to help her dismount.

Anna may have been shocked by such familiarity, but no one else around seemed to be. Hans clasped his hand tightly around hers, and led her into the inn. Anna was too exhausted to argue with him over his behaviour, and simply followed.

He spoke to the innkeeper, making arrangements for a room. Anna stood quietly beside him, her hand still in his, as she took in her surroundings. The inn was clean, and well maintained, not at all what Anna had expected from such a small village. The smell of fresh baked bread wafted in the air, and her stomach rumbled. God, she was hungry. Now that they had finally stopped to rest, she felt positively ravenous.

All around her, people were beginning to sit at the mismatched array of tables in the inn’s common area, a tavern, she decided. It was really quite fascinating to her. Anna had never actually been in an inn before. She snickered to herself, _in an inn._ Hans frowned at her, giving her a reprimanding look, and she almost burst out laughing. God, she was overtired.

The patrons of the tavern gave them curious glances, murmuring to themselves. Anna strained her ears to hear, catching the words, ‘It’s like seeing a ghost’, before the innkeeper handed Hans a key.

Key in hand, Hans quickly led them up a large staircase, eager to get out of sight. The room he’d acquired was sparse; a bed, a small table and two chairs. Anna blanched at the sight of only one bed, but remained silent. This was the best Hans could do on such short notice. His behaviour on arriving made sense now. It was easier to appear as a couple, that way any room available would be easy to procure. It wouldn’t matter if the only rooms available had been single beds. No questions had been asked. Though she had hoped for the sake of her dignity that she had looked more ‘wife’ than ‘mistress’.

Hans threw his greatcoat and gloves off before collapsing onto the bed. Anna went to the small vanity and wash basin. It would be nice to clean herself up a bit. Slipping out of her over-sized cloak, she gasped seeing her dress reflected in the mirror. Hans shot up from the bed immediately, on the alert.

“What?” he practically barked.

Anna stared woefully at her reflection. “I’ll not be going anywhere in this.” She turned, lifting her skirts so Hans could see the dried blood stains marring the fabric.

He flopped back onto the bed, uninterested. “It’s not _that_ bad. We’ll go out later with your cloak on and fetch you something new if you’d like.”

“But I’m starving now,” she protested. She had hoped she could duck back down to the tavern below and eat, even if Hans had decided to sleep.

Hans groaned, sitting up again, and rifled through his greatcoat pocket. He produced a small, yellow pear from the folds, and tossed it to her. “We’ll get something proper to eat after we sleep.”

Anna held the pear tentatively. “I was thinking maybe I’d just put my cloak on and go get something quick from the tavern while you slept.”

“No, we don’t separate. I need you here to stay awake while I sleep. We’ll trade off.”

Anna sighed, taking a bite of the pear. She sat down at the small table. She couldn’t argue with Hans when he was right. If she left him and he started to freeze, she might return to find him taken by the witch’s spell, and then what would she do? Or worse, she could wake up to him attacking her if they both fell asleep. Anna shuddered.

By the time Anna finished the pear, Hans was breathing deeply. He’d been utterly exhausted to fall asleep that quickly. It hadn’t taken Anna more than a few minutes to wolf down the fruit. She sat quietly at the table before she got up, deciding to draw the curtains. She was anxious and bored, still hungry, and probably just as tired as Hans.

She sat back down at the table, running her fingers along the delicate rosemaling on the table runner, and wondered how Elsa was doing. Hans seemed to think that Elsa and Grete were just fine, but Anna wasn’t so sure. They still knew very little about the witch and what she was capable of, but Anna did know that the other Westergaard brothers were unnaturally strong. Inhuman when taking damage. It had to mean that the witch was a very powerful one.

Anna would have worried about Elsa anyway, but against an opponent that seemed to hold far more experience in magic than Elsa was almost unbearable for Anna. She wished she was there. She wished desperately that Elsa had not sent her away.

She knew in her heart that Elsa was right to do it, even if Anna was still having trouble accepting it. It was better to split up. Elsa needed to focus solely on protecting Grete and the baby; they were certainly the more vulnerable. It left Hans to protect Anna. Anna wrinkled her nose at the idea.

Elsa had been desperate and out of options to leave Anna in Hans’s care, but the witch had already tried to eliminate Anna to get Hans under her control in the first place. Anna was in danger whether she liked it or not. She was a threat to the witch. Because of her, for whatever reason, the witch did not have control over Hans.

And, she relented, it had been very smart for Elsa to appeal to Hans. She must have known he’d run, and Anna and Hans were much harder to catch on the run, than if they were inside the palace walls. Elsa had been able to take almost everything into account.

Though she hadn’t had much of a chance to say it out loud, Anna was quite certain that the witch needed Hans. She doubted the witch would kill him, even though he seemed to think so. The witch had made it very clear that she had thirteen frozen hearts in lieu of the broken deal with Hans’s parents. Anna had spent enough time with the Arendelle trolls to know that spells needed to be accurate, as did their payments. Anna was protecting Hans as much as he was protecting her, probably more so.

She yawned, rubbing her eyes, trying to stay awake. Slouching in the chair, she glanced at Hans’s sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, so innocent, so _vulnerable_ in slumber. Even someone like Hans didn’t deserve the curse he and his brothers had been placed under.

She wondered how much time had passed, and if it was her turn to sleep now. She yawned again before she had an idea. An idea that Carol would hate. She could already hear her lady in waiting’s admonishing tone in her head. Anna was none too thrilled with the idea either.

But.

Reaching the trolls was time sensitive. The quicker she and Hans found the trolls, the quicker they could figure out how to fix this mess. Which meant, that sleeping in shifts would not do. They’d be resting for eight to ten hours instead of four or five, and that was simply too long. Anna didn’t know how much further it would be until they reached the eastern woods, nor did she know where to look for the trolls once they were there.

No, something would have to be done about the sleeping arrangements. It was best not to think too much about what she was doing, and just act. It wasn’t all that different from sleeping upright in his arms, really, she decided. And Hans had thought nothing of that. With that settled, Anna got up from the table and went to the bed.

Without giving it another thought, she crawled in beside Hans. In slumber, his body shifted over, subconsciously making room for her in the small bed. She was relieved that she didn’t have to shove him over and risk waking him up. She doubted he’d be very thrilled with the idea if he were awake. She doubted she could go through with it if he was.

She wriggled around to face Hans. Doing her best not to disturb him, she carefully took his closest hand into hers and interlocked her fingers with his. Making certain they wouldn’t pull their hands apart by accident, Anna nestled into a comfortable position and closed her eyes.

Within minutes she was sleeping, but it was a disturbed slumber full of bitter coldness and that wicked voice howling on the winds.

When she awoke, the room was cold. Hans was awake and out of bed, his back to her and his sword drawn. Realizing they were under attack, she scurried up from the bed, ready to aid him…until she saw the tiny snow figure he was brandishing his sword at.

Alarmed, Anna clamoured past Hans towards the tiny snowman. “Stop it!” she bellowed at Hans. “You’re scaring him!”

“ _I’m_ scaring _him_?” Hans shot back in outrage.

“Yes!” Anna hurried to scoop up the little snowman between her palms. He was no bigger than a child’s doll, all cute and round with a wide mouth and large black eyes. He was one of Elsa’s tinier creations, a snowgie. “Hey, little guy,” she cooed, and the snowgie beamed at her.

Its large mouth gaped open and it spoke. Well, not exactly spoke, Anna couldn’t quite explain it. The small creature’s mouth stayed wide open, unmoving while Elsa’s voice emitted through the snowgie. Anna nearly dropped the snowgie in surprise when she heard Elsa calling her name.

“Elsa?” Anna called back hesitantly, speaking back into the snowgie’s mouth.

“Oh, thank God,” Elsa’s voice came again, then as if she was speaking to someone else, Anna heard her say, “It’s her, I’ve found her.”

“Elsa?” Anna said again.

“Listen to me, Anna,” Elsa said with a sense of urgency. “You must not tell me where you are or what you are doing. I’m not sure how secure this form of communication is, and if she can hear us.”

“Okay,” Anna answered, feeling weird about speaking to her sister’s disembodied voice through a snowman.

“Are you safe?”

“Yes,” Anna answered. “Are you?”

“Yes, for now.”

“And Carol? Is Carol okay?”

“Yes, her nerves are shot, but she’s fine. She’s been worried sick about you.” There was a long pause before Elsa spoke again. “I’m not sure how much time we have, so I’ll get right to it; you are being hunted. That witch wants you dead. We think we’ve figured out what type of spell she’s using. She needs Hans, and you are the one person standing in her way.” Elsa’s voice became muffled as though she were speaking away from the snowgie, and speaking again to someone else.

“Elsa?”

“Anna, is Hans still with you?”

“I’m here,” Hans spoke up from behind Anna.

“Hans?” It was now Grete speaking. Her voice was grave and threaded with worry. “She’s sent Espen, Oscar, Mikkel, and Stefan after you.”

“Understood,” Hans answered.

“Then I don’t need to tell you—”

“No,” Hans cut in. “How much time do we have?”

“I don’t know,” Grete admitted. “They do not seem to sleep, so they are already gaining on you.”

Hans became visibly tense. “We have to keep moving. Is there anything else?”

“Now is your chance to prove how clever you really are.”

“Anna?” It was Elsa again. “Be safe, and I love you. Grete and I will sort this out soon, I promise.”

Anna gave a startled cry as the snowgie in her hands crumbled to powdered snow and dissipated into the air. She looked at Hans, who wore a grim expression.

“It’s at least a day’s ride yet to the edge of the eastern woods, and we cannot dally here any longer.” Hans was putting his greatcoat back on. “We need to get only essential supplies, and be on our way as quickly as possible.”

There was a hard lump in Anna’s throat. Grete had sounded very ominous when she’d named who had been sent after them. “About your brothers Grete named—”

Hans tossed Anna her cloak. “They are the best of the best hunters and trackers in the family. I cannot elude them for long, but I have a plan that I hope will at least throw them off our trail and buy us enough time to reach the woods.”

“And once we reach the woods?”

“We hope to hell the forest takes care of them.”

“What?” Anna asked, alarmed.

“The eastern woods don’t just house the trolls. A whole host of nasty magical things reside in those woods. If we’re lucky, they’ll pick off at least two of my brothers for us.”

Anna followed after Hans, chills running up her spine. “And what about us?”

“You’re lucky I always liked folklore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I’m pretty sure I can avoid, or at least best, most of the things in those woods.”


	13. Chapter 12

Anna did her best to keep her reservations to herself. Hans wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any of his plan to avoid his brothers from catching up to them, but she felt the need to speak up when Hans set his horse free with all their newly purchased supplies.

“What are you doing?” She stared aghast as Sitron shot off across a farmer’s field without them, and in the opposite direction of where they were heading.

“We’ll meet up with him later. Right now, it’s better he’s off on his own. We have a boat to catch.”

Anna froze. She thought they had been over this already. “We’re _not_ leaving the Southern Isles.”

“Correct.” Hans grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “We just want them to think we aren’t on this island anymore.”

Anna’s eyes lit up. “They’ll lose our trail at the shoreline and have no choice to follow a boat we aren’t really on.” She smiled. “That’s…actually pretty clever.”

“You think so?” he asked, a little too eager as though he honestly thought her opinion mattered. “We’ll actually be on the boat for a little bit though.” Hans pulled out a map from inside his tailcoat. He unrolled the parchment, smoothing it across the ground to show Anna. “See this little alcove? We’ll take the boat to this point, and get off here. It’s the closest distance to the shore, and it’s perfect for hiding. Nothing but brush and tree line. Then we can back track east, following the backroads and fields. Provided my brothers don’t catch the boat and find out we aren’t aboard, they’ll think we’re heading to the quarry two islands over.”

Anna nodded, she had to admit, it was a good plan. After they had spoken briefly with Elsa and Grete, she had worried about what they were going to do about the four brothers now tracking them. Hans had said they were the best hunters and trackers in the family.

His mood had become grim after the news, and he was eager to leave their current town as soon as possible. Hans didn’t discuss his worries or concerns with her, but Anna could tell that he was on edge about it. His words about never being as good as any of his brothers haunted her. If Hans couldn’t think of someway to outwit or outmatch them, she and Hans would be in serious trouble.

They had gathered only essential supplies for their journey as quickly as possible, and rode Sitron hard to the next town. It was smaller than the previous one, with a less lively atmosphere. Hans had mentioned it was mainly for the quarry workers, who commuted to the uninhabitable islands for work in the Southern Isles’ famous rock quarries.

“It’s not like people can’t live out there,” Hans explained as they stood in line to board the ship that ferried workers over. “It’s that people don’t want to. The weather can be pretty erratic and unforgiving, but it’s the Southern Isles’ livelihood in those rocks, so the workers found a way around it.”

They were able to board the boat without incident, which surprised Anna. No one seemed to care that two extra ‘workers’ had come aboard. More surprising was that no one seemed to recognize Hans. Maybe the Southern Isles was so large that some of its people had never been given the opportunity to see their rulers in person. Had this been Arendelle, Anna would have been recognized as the princess wherever she went.

Hans slid his hand very casually back into hers, giving it a squeeze. “Relax, we’re pretty much in the clear now.” He led her to a secluded part of the boat, letting go of her to lean against the side, and stare out at the ocean. Anna stood beside him, watching the shoreline in silence.

Hans glanced around after a short while, making sure they were alone. “Ready?” he asked. Anna nodded. Hans stepped up onto the side of the boat, keeping steady with one hand on a thick rope for balance, pulling Anna up with him. “On the count of three. One…two…three!”

Together they leapt from the boat and into the water. Anna wasn’t particularly thrilled about the swimming part of the plan, but she had agreed with Hans that it would be wrong to take a life boat from the ferry. Anna would hate for her actions to ever be the reason that someone else’s life was put in danger. The ship’s lifeboats were for emergencies, not her plan to avoid capture.

Hans’s reasons for not taking a boat were less noble. He was more concerned with getting caught stealing one, or in the event his brothers caught up to, or inspected the ship, having them find a life boat missing would be a dead give away that Hans and Anna had veered off, and were not on the quarry island.

The swim was a very short distance, and Hans had planned their departure from the ship rather inconspicuously. No passengers had noticed them jump, and so far, none had noticed them swimming back to the shore. They reached the heavily treed shoreline rather quickly. The waters had been agreeable, and Anna had managed the swim all on her own without Hans giving aid.

They climbed to the shore, tired, but nowhere near the exhaustion she’d felt the last time she and Hans had been for a swim. Anna shivered in her wet clothes; wishing there had been a way to get into something dry, rather than continuing on in sopping wet clothes. They wouldn’t get anything dry until they met back up with Sitron and got their outerwear. Anna sorely wished that they had had time to buy a change of clothes.

Hans gave a frustrated growl after about fifteen minutes of trudging through the brush, soaked to the bone, having every bit of leaf and twig he encountered cling to his wet clothing. Anna wasn’t fairing much better. Her skirts were sticking uncomfortably to her legs, the hems caked in muck and leaves, but at least most of the dried blood had washed out.

“All right.” Hans finally threw his hands up and stopped in defeat in a small clearing. “I admit that I didn’t think this part of the plan through very well. It was a stupid idea. We need to get a fire going and dry off, warm up.”

He was under a great deal of pressure and looked particularly upset over the turn of events, so Anna tried to lighten the mood.

She smiled at him, trying not to laugh as she lifted her skirt hem. “But look at all the sticks and leaves I’ve managed to collect.” She pretended to ponder thoughtfully. “I think I’ll keep them to press in a souvenir book when I get home.”

Hans laughed at that. It was a short and uncomfortable laugh, but it had distracted him from his perceived failure. “I’ve made an awful mess of your hems. People are going to think we’re a pair of draugar haunting the land.”

Anna put her hands on her hips, seizing the opportunity. “Speak for yourself! Maybe you look like you’ve just crawled from the grave, but _I_ happen to be a princess—a forest princess!” She gave a jaunty twirl, sending bits of muck from her hems splattering in all directions.

Hans raised his arms, shielding himself from the mud. “Knock it off!” He laughed, trying to sound serious. “You’re making me look worse!”

“Well, you’re the draugr, remember?”

With a playful glint in his eye, he ducked around her, stealing her hand in his, and drew her into a fancy spin. “Maybe I don’t want to be a draugr. A forest prince sounds much better.”

He had that stupid little grin of his back on his face. Despite herself, Anna giggled. He twirled her around in a few more spins before the momentum had her toppling right into him, clumsily landing against his chest, face to face. Hans gave a nervous laugh. When their eyes locked, his gaze was intense, almost as intense as the sudden thumping of her heart. Anna shyly bit her bottom lip as absurd thoughts of him maybe kissing her snuck into her mind.

Hans let go of her almost immediately, his ears going red as he stepped back anxiously. He quickly began to rummage the forest floor, keeping his eyes off of her. “We should really get that fire going. We’ve already wasted enough time as it is.” He picked up any stones he could use as flint.

Anna brushed her hair behind her ear before joining in, searching for twigs and branches; trying her best to shake off any weird fantasies she’d just had. It unnerved her that she could even conjure up such images in her mind.

With a fire soon going, they had a makeshift camp. They sat in silence in front of the fire. It was the first time they’d had a real moment to talk, but neither one did. Anna wasn’t sure how to fill the awkward silence. Whatever playfulness Anna had found in Hans earlier was gone, which she decided was probably for the best.

It wasn’t as if she and Hans were friends and had catching up to do. Instead, they were unlikely allies, tentative partners in a quest that neither really wanted to be a part of. She already knew there was no point in trying to get Hans to open up about anything. She’d tried that in the dungeon with disappointing results. And as much as sitting quietly in front of the fire made her want to dredge up the past with him, she wasn’t entirely convinced it would do any good.

If Hans was sorry for anything he had done to her in the past, he would have said something to her about it by now. In fact, he should have apologized for it at the ball upon meeting her again. But he hadn’t.

No, Hans wasn’t sorry at all for any of his past actions towards her, and it was foolish to even think he’d apologize. She wondered if she’d forgive him anyway. Sometimes she thought she could. Most times, she didn’t. Most times, she just wanted an apology so that she could refuse it.

She hadn’t been allowed to fully process any of her feelings about being reunited with Hans, and now she had to contend with being exclusively in his company while they tried to break the Southern Isles’ curse. Had she been allowed to do things differently, she would have loved some time to carefully work through her thoughts and feelings regarding him. Instead, she was stuck trying to cope with him while being constantly near him.

She looked at him sitting quietly, focused on the fire. His hair was still damp, matted oddly to his forehead, and he had stubble from at least two days of proper grooming lost, but rather than looking like a complete disgrace, Anna thought he looked unconventionally charming.

Anna was certain that she resembled a drowned rat. If she was anything like Elsa, she lamented, she would have looked elegantly disheveled, and every bit the royal she was supposed to be.

Hans had removed his tailcoat, cravat and boots, but kept the wet waistcoat on. It’d be scandalous for him to appear in front of her in nothing but his linen shirt. Anna almost laughed at his sensibilities. His clothing would dry much quicker if he wasn’t wearing it layered. He had far more freedom in what he could and could not wear in the sense of propriety than Anna did, and yet he was adhering to societal expectations.

Out here, soaking wet, scandal was the very least of Anna’s concerns. She had her priorities straight. Anna had already removed her bodice, stockings, petticoat, drawers and boots in favour of drying them quickly. She’d chosen practicality over propriety. It was far better to be dry than demure. Modesty be damned, she’d kept her skirt and blouse on for that.

She wished she could get her corset off, but that would require his help to be efficient, and she wasn’t so uncomfortable yet that it warranted asking Hans to help remove her clothing. Carol would have a fit if she knew Anna had partially undressed in a man’s presence, leaving her undergarments spread out and on display to dry.

For his part, Hans had paid very little attention, showing no interest at all in her unmentionables. His eyes were either trained on the fire or on her face.

Hans sneezing pulled Anna away from her thoughts.

“Your shirt and waistcoat will dry better off,” she suggested, and he looked up at her from the fire, blinking, as though it hadn’t occurred to him.

Silently, he unbuttoned his waistcoat, pulling it from his shoulders. Anna couldn’t help but notice the wet linen shirt clinging to his body in all the right places. Heat rising to her cheeks, she glanced away. There was no way she had just thought about him like _that_. This was not the time, nor the place, nor the person to be tempted with.

He didn’t seem to care or notice, and soon he was pulling the drenched fabric up over his head, revealing the formidable physique that Anna had always imagined was there. She couldn’t help but look.

She scolded herself for it, but she still unabashedly stared at his exposed torso. Firm, taut muscles, smooth belly, pert little nipples that had gone hard from being exposed to the cool air. She silently approved.

A small, horrified “oh!” escaped her lips when she noticed the puckered angry skin of an old scar marring his abdomen, just under his ribs.

“You can’t be that surprised that someone tried stabbing me.”

His voice was so bland it was unnerving. Anna stared at the scar, registering in her head the size of the blade. It was a sizeable scar, so a large weapon.

“W-who?” Anna asked feebly, knowing full well that whoever it was, Hans had most likely done something to deserve it.

Hans looked at her as if it was no big deal. “Well, Lennart will tell you running me through was an accident, but then who on earth uses a sharpened blade for a sparring lesson?”

Anna gaped at him, she must have heard wrong. “ _Lennart_? As in your _brother,_ Lennart?”

“Straight through,” Hans continued, twisting around to show her his back. “See?” He gestured to the matching scar on his back where the blade would have exited.

Anna felt ill. While not a duelist herself, she knew enough about swordplay to know that sparring lessons used the bluntest blades. It was a safety rule in place to keep sparring partners safe from accidents.

Anna remembered the absolute horror Elsa had felt when she found out she had accidentally harmed Anna. Anna couldn’t imagine a sibling doing something to harm the other deliberately…and yet, from what she knew of Lennart in the short period she’d known him, it kind of made perfect sense. It was no surprise that Lennart could be cruel, he’d been sadistic to Anna over a stupid dance. Of course, Hans could be lying entirely.

But the idea of Hans being run through by his brother, sparked a memory. Something Elsa had said in passing to her when she had woken up after the ball, safe and sound.

_‘Grete thought there was a good chance you’d be okay. She said it wasn’t the first time Hans went over that balcony.’_

At the time, Anna hadn’t bothered to wonder _why_ Hans would have gone over that balcony before in the first place. It certainly couldn’t have been on purpose. No one in their right mind would make such a precarious leap deliberately.

“The balcony,” she started slowly. “How did you end up going over it the first time?”

His eyes went sharp and suspicious. “How do you know about that?”

Suddenly nervous, Anna stumbled out a reply, “Elsa said Grete said—”

“Oh.” Hans relaxed, turning his attention from her and back to the fire. He poked it aimlessly with a nearby stick. “I was barely seventeen, I should have known better than to have won the summer horse derby. Aksel was pretty upset about that—losing to his baby brother.” He paused, staring at the flames, his brows furrowed slightly. “I was old enough that I really should have known better by then, but I went out onto the balcony with them anyway.” He looked up at her again with the same carefree expression he always seemed to wear. “It doesn’t really matter now, everyone will tell you it was an accident. That nobody meant to shove me over the ledge. A little rough housing gone wrong, it’s just what brothers do.”

“Was this before or after Lennart ran you through in a sparring ‘accident’?”

“Before,” he answered softly. “It doesn’t matter though.” He then smiled brightly. The gesture jarred Anna. “Besides, look how handy that experience came in? Saved you, didn’t it?”

True, it had saved her life. Hans already knew he could survive the fall and the swim, and assumed she would too. Given the alternative…well, Anna would much rather have been with Hans in the water than with the witch on the balcony. He had taken a calculated risk, trusting he’d be able to keep her safe.

“Are these types of ‘accidents’ normal on the Southern Isles?”

His laughter was sharp and biting. “Only in the palace.”

“But _why_?” Anna knew that Hans was downright horrible, but to know that his family actively tried to do away with one another was quite a bit for her to take in. They were _family_. Surely family stood up for one another, loved them, kept them safe. She had always just assumed that Hans was an anomaly within his family, and that the rest of his line was perfectly decent, like her own family. In the past few days, she was discovering quite the opposite.

Hans gave a small shrug. “We’ve always been encouraged to be competitive with each other. Pit against each other to garner favour. Only the strong survive and are noticed. Only the cunning get the glory.” He went silent, casting his eyes back to the flame, the air around him suddenly darker. “And…it turns out I wasn’t wanted. I wasn’t what they needed, and therefore had no purpose. So, none of it really matters.”

Anna stared at him in horror. “It does matter,” she whispered. “Hans, all of it matters.”

He tilted his head, studying her face. “Maybe in your world it does.”

Anna couldn’t imagine having a sibling try to kill her on purpose or have a parent openly hate her for simply being born a different gender than desired. Really, she couldn’t fathom being conceived for the sole purpose of a payment. A human currency. Families were supposed to love each other no matter what. Clearly, the Westergaards did not function that way. For all purposes, Hans being the way he was started making sense to her.

For a year now, she’d been grappling with the hows and whys of Hans. Everything about him and his treachery had never made sense to her. He’d blindsided her. She hadn’t been able to understand how someone who she thought was so like her was so unlike her.

She had never been exposed to a home environment like his. Up until two days ago, she hadn’t even known such animosity within family existed. Even when she had thought that Elsa had hated her for no reason, Elsa had only ignored her. It was only now that Anna was starting to see just how sheltered a life she lived.

Hans, it seemed, had grown up very differently than Anna had thought. He’d certainly never known familial love and affection. From what Anna had garnered, he’d grown up ruthless and ambitious because he had to. Otherwise, he would never have survived. His upbringing had created the monster behind the mask. Listening to him talk confirmed that he honestly didn’t know any better. He’d never been exposed to a loving family to even understand what it was.

It didn’t mean she forgave him of their past, but at the very least, she could understand now why they had the past they did. And that was a start, wasn’t it?

“You look pale,” he remarked. “Not on my behalf, I hope.” The way he said it was so cavalier that Anna’s stomach turned. Whatever sort of cruelty Hans had endured in his lifetime was now so normalized in him that he didn’t appear bothered by any of it. It was just the way things were in his world, and he’d accepted that reality.

“It’s going to be dark soon,” Anna replied, changing the topic.

“So?”

“It’ll be more dangerous.”

Hans laughed. “That’s a big misconception of the Southern Isles.” When he stopped laughing and looked her dead in the eyes. “It’s always dangerous here.”

She held back the apology on her lips, remembering how much he seemed to hate her apologizing. She wanted to say she was sorry that his parents were awful, that his siblings were awful, that his entire life had been awful. Instead, she asked, “Was it always like this?”

He looked somewhat amused by her question, as if he didn’t expect it. “My life? I suppose so. Don’t get me wrong, we’re all pretty terrible, each with our vices, but not all my family has been specifically terrible to _me_. And I learned to give it as well as I could take it, so you needn’t worry your pretty little head over that.”

“I wasn’t—”

He laughed. “It’s written all over your face. So, if it will make you feel better, my oldest brothers were never so nasty to me. Indifferent, but not awful. Vilhelm’s decent enough, I suppose, if he weren’t such a gluttonous miser. And Ulrik and Georg are fine despite being complete pleasure-seeking wastrels. Their penchant for women, gambling houses and opium dens is quite unapparelled, but for a time Ulrik found me an amusing tag along. He even taught me swordplay—and despite his faults, Ulrik is one heck of a swordsman. I’d argue the best in the family.”

“You frequented houses of ill-repute with your brother?”

“No, sorry,” he gave an embarrassed chuckle, his cheeks going pink. “I was like eight! Far too young to be allowed entrance to any of those places. I meant in the palace. For a time, I wanted to be just like him, and he enjoyed the attention. I fed his ego. He only indulged me until he had children of his own though—over half my nephews are his.”

“And nieces?”

“No nieces. Not from any of them. I’ve sixteen nephews in total, all complete brats. Ten are Ulrik’s offspring.”

Anna gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot.”

“And that’s not counting the bastards.”

“Ulrik and Georg…they’re the two you fought in my bedchamber.”

“Yeah.” His mouth went tight, his laughter gone.

“That must have been difficult for you.” She felt sorry he’d had to fight his brothers, especially ones he got along with.

“It could have been much worse, but Georg is terrible with a sword.” Hans had misunderstood her words. “You were actually quite lucky it was him and not Ulrik. I’d have never gotten to you in time otherwise.”

“How awful for you to have to fight them in the first place,” Anna elaborated. “I couldn’t imagine going up against Elsa like that.”

“They were going to kill you, Anna,” Hans answered flatly. “I did what I had to in order to keep you safe. If Georg had died after I had lopped off his arm, then he would have died. Better him than you.”

He was so matter of fact about it that it disturbed Anna.

He noticed and continued, “I wasn’t going to let any harm come to you, understand? I used every trick I knew, every advantage I had on them to get us out.”

“Keep your assets safe,” Anna murmured. That seemed to be the name of the game on the Southern Isles.

“Yes,” Hans agreed. “Without you I’d be—”

“—A witch’s puppet.”

His jaw ticked and he looked away from her. “Something like that.”

“I never did thank you for saving my life.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.” He was looking at the ground now.

“All right,” Anna answered. Seeing he was closing himself off, she dropped the topic. “So…what about the rest of your family?”

“Anyone in particular?”

“What about the twins?” Anna asked on impulse, remembering the critical smirks she’d endured from the pair at the docks.

“Which set?” he asked.

Anna hadn’t realized there was more than one set of twins in the Westergaard brood. They’d all looked so similar, but only Aksel and Aleksander were identical.

“The identical ones, they greeted Elsa and I when we arrived at the docks.”

“So that’s why Aleksander was so interested,” Hans muttered to himself.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing,” Hans replied, quickly answering her question. “Aksel’s always been mean tempered, Aleksander’s always been passive aggressive. They keep to themselves, mostly. I think it’s a twin thing. Oscar and Espen are like that too. They even have their own language; it drives their wives crazy, but they aren’t the worst. Nor are Mikkel and Rueben. They aren’t twins but they might as well be being only a year apart.”

“I take it that Lennart is the worst of your brothers?”

Hans grinned at her like they were partners in crime and now shared a secret. His voice dripped with sarcasm when he spoke, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Anna gave an equally sarcastic shrug.

It made Hans laugh. He leaned in closer to her. “Lennart, Klaus and Stefan have always been horrible—at least to me. You’ll have to forgive me when I say that I’m glad your touch didn’t work on Lennart.”

Anna smiled a little. It was an awful thing to say, but Anna would give him that one. She wouldn’t admit aloud that she agreed with him. How horrible would it be, she mused, if Lennart was here with them? She wrinkled her nose, not wanting to entertain the idea at all.

“They all have their moments. And I can hold my own now anyway, gone are the days when Ulrik or Georg would step in, or I’d spend my days hiding in the dark.”

The comment jolted her. “ _That’s_ the reason why you knew how to navigate that secret passage in the dark? How you ride so well in the dark?”

He looked puzzled. “Well, yeah. I mean, hiding and sneaking about was the best way to avoid confrontation, especially when you’re the youngest. I’m very good at disappearing.”

Anna felt a little ashamed for assuming the worst about him earlier, thinking he partook in such activities to carry out awful schemes and plots. Instead, his skill set was a defense mechanism he’d taught himself in order to survive. Hans, it seemed, was not quite all that he appeared to be.

She was actually surprised just how much Hans had spoken to her of his past and of his family. Anna noticed that his posture and mannerisms were much more relaxed around her when it was just the two of them. Without Elsa or Grete or even Carol and the guards, Hans seemed more comfortable and at ease.

He’d touched on almost everyone, satisfying Anna’s curiosity. Just one remained whom she didn’t really know about.

“And what of your father?”

Hans pulled away from her, his mood souring at the mention of his father. “I don’t want to discuss him. It’s his fault we’re in this mess, and that’s all you need ever know about him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it’s time to talk about Hans’s undergarments! For the 19th century man, the linen (or cotton) shirt worn under the waistcoat and tailcoat was considered underwear. To see an upperclass man without a tail or top coat on and only in his waistcoat was considered very informal and reserved for the home around family and close relations. A man would never be seen out and about in public without a coat over the waistcoat.
> 
> To see a man in only his linen shirt and trousers was considered scandalous, akin to seeing a man in his underwear, because the linen shirt was underwear. The shirt was long enough to use as a nightshirt, and to tuck into trousers acting as underwear, keeping the trousers from chaffing the privates. Most men did not wear any form of briefs. Just that lovely, multipurpose linen shirt.


	14. Chapter 13

After their clothes had dried enough, they had once again set off towards the eastern woods. It had taken a lot longer, but neither were particularly thrilled about travelling the night in wet clothing. It would do no good to invite illness.

Moving on foot through the dark was difficult for Anna. Every step she took seemed to snap some twig, or hit some rock, or crunch some leaf that left noise echoing all around her. Pointing to anything that might be hunting them to their exact position. She stumbled around behind Hans in the pitch black, trying to keep quiet, and trying to keep up.

Hans always led. He was always in front of her, quick and quiet. She could barely hear his foot falls at all. But then, he was good at being stealthy. Anna was not. She was thankful he was as large as he was, his body mass towering above her. If he had not been, she doubted she’d be able to follow him at all in the dark. Right now, she had only the shape of his large frame, dark against the background of different shades of night to follow.

They didn’t speak while they travelled. Hans had become visibly tenser as they ventured out of the wooded area and into open field. It was the first time since being with him that he didn’t look like the predatory wolf, and instead the deer. It made Anna wholly uncomfortable. She had never felt anything but like a deer since this whole journey began. She had relied on Hans being dangerous enough to keep her from harm, but he’d already told her once; that up against his brothers he was no match. And now there were four hunting them.

If Hans had been no match for his brothers before they were cursed by the witch, then he certainly stood less of a chance now. Though, Hans did seem to match them in strength. Anna remembered the fight in her bedchamber, where Hans had fought Ulrik and Georg, slicing Georg’s arm off. An arm that had been inexplicably frozen solid. Anna couldn’t imagine the strength needed to do such a thing, but Hans had cleaved it right off in one stroke.

Hans wasn’t exactly under the witch’s control, but he was still cursed and seemed to have acquired the same supernatural powers as his brothers. Only unlike his siblings, Hans was in control of himself, and not a puppet to a mad woman.

Anna’s eyes widened in shock when Hans suddenly dropped to a dead faint in front of her. One minute, she was watching his form stride ahead, and the next, his body just crumpled to the ground. She bit her tongue, forcing herself not to call out to him. He had been cautious in the dark, so she would too.

Anna dropped to his side, worried when she couldn’t see what he looked like without proper light. When she touched him, he was as cold as ice. She cupped his face gently in the palms of her hands. He inhaled violently, jolting upwards as though he had just awoken from an awful dream.

The movement startled Anna into pulling her hands away from him. His body trembled uncontrollably as he looked around in a panic. He looked like he would bolt any second if he could.

“Hans,” she whispered softly, trying to sound soothing and gentle, speaking the way she would to a spooked animal. “It’s me, Anna. You’re back now.”

To her surprise, he dropped back to the ground, curling up into a ball, still shaking violently. His teeth began to chatter. Anna furrowed her brow in concern. This was not how Hans acted whenever Anna had pulled him from the witch’s grasp before. This time, he was back, but he was still freezing.

Anna moved beside him, cradling her body around his as he shook uncontrollably from a chill Anna couldn’t feel. His body was cold, and on first impact it made her shiver, but she didn’t feel any colder than she had all night. She held him closely, wrapping her body against his. She covered his hands that had been drawn up tight to his chest with her own, and nestled her head over his shoulder, pressing her bare cheek up against his.

“You’re with me,” she soothed. Though she wasn’t sure if she said it as a comfort to him, or for herself. “We are warm. We are safe.” She repeated this over and over until his trembling lessened, and his teeth had ceased chattering.

In a few short moments, he shrugged out of her embrace, sitting up and away from her. “I’m fine now,” he mumbled, before rising to his feet.

“That wasn’t like the other times.” Anna scrambled to stand up while voicing her concerns, “It was worse, you didn’t—”

“I’m fine now,” he repeated with a sharpness to his voice that stopped Anna in her tracks. When he began to move again, Anna had to hurry to keep up. It was as though he didn’t want to be near her. She watched him carefully. Even if he didn’t want to discuss what had just happened, they both knew that it had been worse than the previous times he froze. Something had changed. Either Hans was getting weaker, or the witch was trying harder to catch him. Or maybe it was both.

Anna briskly caught up with him, deliberately walking at his side than at his back. He didn’t acknowledge she was there, he just stared ahead, walking. And that was fine, she decided. They didn’t have to talk about it, but she wouldn’t take the risk of him falling again out in the open in the middle of the night. She snatched his hand in hers, holding it firmly. She half expected him to yank his arm away. To her relief, he grasped her hand back. Tightly.

It was then that she knew he’d been acting aloof to mask that he was actually scared. He wouldn’t admit it, nor would he show it. But fear had always been present in the background, she could just see it better in him now. She wanted to tell him that she was scared too, and that they could be scared together, but she kept her mouth closed.

She had to remind herself that he was still Hans, and that Hans was capable of doing terrible things. It was best to not try to relate to him, and by consequence, form any attachments to him. That would be a dangerous path to go down, and a very foolish one for Anna.

Hans slowed to a stop, cocking his head to listen before he gave a short, sharp whistle that was met by the soft nicker of a horse in the distance. Sitron! Anna strained to see if she could make out the shape of the horse in the direction the reply came from. She heard the gallop of hooves in the dark before she saw Sitron. She couldn’t express her happiness at seeing their mount again—and with all their supplies too.

Sitron nickered again upon seeing Hans. He let the horse nuzzle him affectionately before he slipped the creature a lump of sugar he pulled from his pocket. “I missed you too,” he spoke quietly to the horse, and Anna could hear the smile on his lips.

Having Sitron back made their progress towards the eastern woods much quicker than on foot, that was obvious. But, with the added weight of their supplies, Hans was more concerned about exhausting his horse, so they alternated riding and walking. It seemed as though Hans was reserving Sitron’s strength for an emergency, like if they had to flee at a moment’s notice.

He was being too cautious, and though Anna didn’t think that was a bad thing, she wanted to reach the trolls as soon as possible. The tree line was already in their sight, marking the entrance to the eastern woods. If they galloped on Sitron now, they’d reach the forest in no time.

“Do you think we are being followed?” Anna asked finally, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon.

Hans scratched his chin, rubbing the stubble with a grimace. “Hard to say, but it’s always best to assume that we are.” He unconsciously hugged his arms to himself with a shiver. “It’s cold this morning.”

Anna didn’t think it was cold at all. The rising sun was already starting to chase the chill of the night away. She held her hand out to him, and kept her tone light. “Come on, you wanted to reach the woods by morning.”

He slipped his hand back into hers, his fingers cold to the bone. Anna made a mental note of it. Since his last attack, Hans never seemed to feel warm or warm up completely from her touch.

She was eager to get him into the safety of the forest and hopefully get a small fire going. Being out in the brisk of the night hadn’t helped him fully recover, it had only kept the witch’s effects lingering. What Hans needed most was a chance to warm up properly, though out here there was really no way of doing that. But perhaps a nice warm fire and a hot meal would set him back right, or at least as right as he had been since being cursed.

Within the hour, they had reached the eastern woods. It was a much denser forest than any Anna had explored in Arendelle. The trees were ancient and tall, their branches and leaves almost blotting out the sun. Only a few pockets of light seeped through to the forest floor. It stood to reason that such little amount of sunlight would produce a forest of high trees and little underbrush, but the eastern woods was thick with shrubs and nettles, and vines that couldn’t possibly grow as they had under such conditions.

The air was dank and musty, the forest floor soft under foot. A damp chill seemed to permeate through the woods, and to Anna’s dismay, any branches or twigs they found lying around held enough moisture that any fire they had tried to light only smouldered. It would do no good to have so much smoke and no chance of fire, so after the second attempt, they had decided there would be no fire.

They sat to rest on a moss-covered log that sank with rot under their weight. Hans fished through one of the leather sacks for a meal, pulling out a small loaf of bread and breaking it in half. He handed her a chunk and she readily devoured it. God, she was hungry. Anna had forgotten how hungry she really was until the moment food had been placed before her. She had spent the night worrying about Hans, forgetting that she was tired and starving. They each had an apple, even Sitron, and a bit of rationed water to finish the sad meal off with.

Hans decided that the log was as good a place as any to sleep. Anna’s exhaustion would not disagree. Now that her rumbling belly had been sated, she felt the urgent tug of slumber. Hans had retrieved a thick wool blanket from off of Sitron. Still tightly bound, he placed the roll against the log, using it as a pillow. The blanket was long enough for them both to rest their heads on while still giving them a bit of space as they slept sitting up, side by side.

Carol would have a fit, Anna thought sleepily. Hans reached over and grabbed her hand, intertwining his long, cold fingers tightly in hers before his breath went deep and steady. It wasn’t long before Anna drifted into slumber herself.

She dreamed of darkness and ice, of that ancient voice swirling on the howling winds, hissing that awful phrase, ‘ _One that should not be!_ ’ at her over and over again. She dreamed of powerful magic the likes of which Elsa could never compete against and win.

She awoke with a start, disoriented by the darkness surrounding them. Sitron whinnied gently, as if to reassure her everything was fine. They were just in the woods and it was only dark because she and Hans had slept soundly through the rest of the day. Anna ran her empty hand through her hair, the weight of the dream still pressing down on her, almost crushing her. Until she realized that it wasn’t her dream at all, and the physical discomfort was real…and that it was Hans.

Hans, still sleeping, had snuggled up to her at some point, his head nestled against her breast, and free arm wrapped tightly around her waist. At any other time, Anna would have been alarmed to have a man other than a lover hold her in such a way, but Hans was shivering uncontrollably again. She could feel the icy coolness surrounding him. He needed her warmth.

She brushed her free hand softly over his bangs, grazing his forehead so as not to disturb him, but still check on him all the same. His skin freezing to the touch. Like ice.

God, what she wouldn’t give for a fire right now.

She reached behind her to retrieve the rolled up blanket. It was a bit of a challenge to untie it with one hand and then drape it over them, but she managed. Not wanting to rest her head back on the mossy, rotting log, she slipped her hood on and nestled back into a marginally comfortable position.

Hans still shivered against her, but less violently. Anna closed her eyes. Her hand drifted back to his bangs, absently stroking him the way she remembered her mother would do with her when Anna was a child and not feeling well.

She knew she shouldn’t touch him in such a way, but when he was like this, it was hard to remember that he was Hans. Still Hans. Still the man that had left Anna for dead. Still the man who had tried to murder her sister. Always dangerous, and never safe, but clinging desperately to her for warmth. He needed her to chase the cold away, and she needed him to—

Anna stopped. She needed him to what? Truthfully, she didn’t really need him for anything. She was the one helping him. He was her damsel in distress, not the other way around. She was the one trying to fix his family’s mess. She was only doing this for Elsa. For Grete and her baby. For all the innocent people that would soon be very much affected by the curse placed on the Southern Isles royal family.

She had never felt that she was one suited for heroics. She was far too impulsive, never really thinking things through before acting. Yet here she was again, a year later and on another quest to save a kingdom. As if saving Arendelle hadn’t been enough. Or that her desire to make things right didn’t compel her to keep moving forward in blind leaps of faith.

She thought of Kristoff and what he would say to her now as she sat alone in the dark with the man who had betrayed her. Hans all snuggled up against her as she pet his hair like a mother or a lover would. Kristoff would ask her why she hadn’t shoved Hans off of her immediately. Why she hadn’t woken him up. Kristoff would ask her all the things she didn’t want to answer. All the things that had only one answer. An answer she knew well and hated.

She still cared about Hans.

Hans, who terrified her, and thrilled her all the same. He made her wary, and angry, and even absolutely livid at times. But when she was with him, she felt truly alive. She couldn’t deny that she still found him physically attractive either.

She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, and she constantly questioned everything about him, always suspicious, always cautious. He had taught her cruelty and betrayal. He’d broken her heart, and left her forever changed, and yet, at times, she admired him.

She admired how cleverly his mind worked, how he could quickly adapt to every situation, and find his advantage. How he always seemed to have a purpose, a goal in mind.

His shivering had ceased, but Anna hadn’t noticed exactly when. She’d been lost in her own thoughts and hadn’t been paying attention to Hans at all until he shifted his body, nestling his face deeper into her breast and moaning softly.

Heat seared across her cheeks the instant her ears caught that little moan from his lips. That delicious little sound had her heart hammering madly in her chest. She should not let him stay close to her like this. She could almost hear the rushing sound of her blood coursing through her body, drowning out everything else. Like a great sparkling river gushing forth with the coolest, clearest, sweetest water—

Anna licked her parched lips. God, she was thirsty. So thirsty. And the sound in her head had somehow made it out into her ears, like there really was a river nearby, just like the one she’d pictured in her head—

_Wait, what?_

She went stiff, concentrating, listening to the sound she had thought was in her head only moments ago. She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing while she listened in the dark.

Yes, she could hear it now, plain as day. Water. Maybe not a river, but a stream—and nearby. Softly and pleasantly rippling, inviting her forward and into the dark forest. She looked to the direction the sound of the stream could be heard. Why it wasn’t very far at all! She dimly wondered why neither of them had heard it until now.

_Because you were exhausted, stupid._

If she could just disentangle herself from Hans, she could refill their water canteens, and fetch a quick, cool drink—

Anna jumped as Sitron gave a low snort, like he was warning her to stay put. She turned to glare at the horse for distracting her from her task. The water sounded even louder the moment she had turned away from it. Quickly reminded of her thirst, she turned her attention back to the sound. Sitron snorted again, louder than before. Annoyed, Anna turned her attention back to Sitron.

“Oh, quit it!” she hissed at the horse. “I’ll only be gone a minute. The stream is just over there.” She turned and pointed in the direction of the stream for the horse’s benefit, only to have her arm freeze in horror when she saw what she was pointing at.

After following the dark form of Hans all through the night before, Anna was accustomed to recognizing shapes against the black backdrop of night. And there, standing at least ten meters away from where she and Hans sat, was a figure.

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the thing in the dark. At first, she was certain it was a person—a man. She had immediately thought it to be one of the princes hunting them, only the more Anna stared at it, the more the shape was all wrong. The arms were too long, the hunched frame of the thing, scraggy and bent as though it didn’t quite fit together properly. But most unnerving, the thing turned towards her, and its eyes _glowed_. Two sickly yellow orbs stared back at her from the darkness of the woods. Anna inhaled sharply, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

If Anna had felt there was nothing safe about being with Hans, she had never felt it more now. How she wished it was Kristoff here with her instead. While she didn’t doubt Hans would protect her, she was beginning to doubt just how effective a protector he was if he was succumbing to the witch’s curse. What happened if he collapsed like he had a night earlier in the middle of a fight?

“Ha…Hans,” she whispered, forcing her voice to work. She nudged him, trying to rouse him from his slumber, but not in any way that would draw attention to them. Even though the thing was staring right at her, maybe it couldn’t see them. There was no sense in being more noticeable, and—Anna shuddered—have it come closer to them. She nudged Hans harder until he finally woke. Giving a disgruntled snort, his head popped up from her breast, and she imagined he was scowling at her for waking him.

“What?” He was barely awake, and his question had come out as more of a growl mixed with a grunt.

“There’s something here,” she whispered, thankful her voice was working clear enough that he could understand her. “Right over there.”

Hans was immediately on the alert, his whole body tensed, ready for a fight. Anna was surprised how quickly he could shake off the sleep and unwrap himself from around her. He was poised to spring into battle, only to suddenly relax and pull out of his attack crouch, slinking back down beside her.

“Oh,” he grumbled. “Those.”

Anna stared at him in disbelief because instead of drawing his sword or even his dagger, she could hear him rustling in his pockets. He pulled something out that she couldn’t see, and deftly hucked it directly at the thing in the dark. Whatever he had thrown had hit its mark because the thing let out an unearthly wail, so loud and shrill that Anna shoved her hands to her ears, trying to block out the awful shrieking. The thing tore off into the night, and Hans pulled her hands from off her ears.

“Just don’t be stupid enough to follow those, and you’ll be fine.” His voice was so bland, so normal, so _calm_. “They like to trick people, luring them away from safety, but they can’t do anything to you unless you follow.”

Anna was still shaking from the encounter. She _had_ almost followed that thing. It had made her think it was a stream, and she was going to go after it, none the wiser had it not been for Sitron.

“Give me some sugar cubes,” she demanded, holding her open palm out. Hans did as he was told, and Anna immediately stood up and approached Sitron. “You beautiful, lovely, brave boy,” she cooed as Sitron eagerly took the lump of sugar she offered from her hand. “You saved me, you noble, valiant steed.”

“ _I’m_ the one who scared it off,” Hans mumbled as though he felt he deserved the reward and praise.

Anna looked over at him. “Thank you, Hans.” And she meant it. She fed Sitron another treat. “What did you throw at it anyway?”

“An iron nail. I’ve got a pocket full of them. Things here hate iron.” He began rolling up the blanket. “I told you the trolls weren’t the only creatures that inhabited these woods. And speaking of which, trolls are only awake at night, so we had best get a move on.”

Anna already knew that trolls were nocturnal. The moment the sun rose in the morning, trolls automatically turned to stone and fell asleep, impossible to wake until sunset.

“Which way should we go?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Hans answered, suddenly at her side. She hadn’t even heard him move towards her.

He struck a match, and Anna didn’t want to admit just how welcome that tiny bit of light was in the dark. Sheltering the flame with his hand, Hans used it to light a lantern fastened to one of the packs on Sitron’s back. He unhooked the lantern, pausing to look in each available direction. “I suppose the deeper we go in, the more likely we are to find them.”

He reached for her hand, and they set off together, deeper into the woods.


	15. Chapter 14

Two days. For two days now, they had been wandering aimlessly through the eastern woods in search of the trolls. For two days now, it had rained. They were wet, soaked to the bone, even with the makeshift shelters they had built to rest under. Anna was constantly cold, wet, hungry and tired. Her frustration turned into irritability, and she was snarky and peevish, but Hans was much worse.

He had gone sullen and broody, retreating into himself. When she looked at him, she could see the resentment in his eyes. He never said it aloud, but she knew he blamed her. It had been her idea to search out the trolls, only they had not anticipated that the trolls would be so hard to find.

But Han’s attitude was the least of Anna’s worries concerning him.

With each passing day, he was visibly paler, colder. His cheeks had lost their rosy warmth, replaced with an ashen complexion. His lips had taken on a permanent bluish-purple hue, and dark circles blackened the skin surrounding his now hollow looking eyes. Even his eye colour seemed a duller, murkier green—like frost covering a pond. And his hands were so cold that it stung to touch him, though she did anyway.

Always in the back of her mind, she wondered when she wouldn’t be able to touch him at all like with Lennart. She looked down at the stark, whitish blue hand encased in her normal, rosy flesh toned one. They _had_ to find the trolls. They needed help.

Hans was at his worst when he slept. He would always automatically curl his shivering body up against hers, no matter how far away from her he had started out sleeping. Anna would get very little sleep, dozing at best as she held his huddled, freezing form, trying to keep him as warm as she could.

He had taken to sleep talking, and through his chattering teeth Anna could hear him hold disjointed, one sided conversations with what could only be the witch. He was always resisting, but she was always calling, and Anna wondered when he would give in. Would it be when Anna wasn’t enough?

If Anna had powers, or residual magic, or whatever it was, why couldn’t she use it? In desperation, she had tried to will a hot, crackling fire into existence more than once the past two days to no avail. She was absolutely useless, not like Elsa at all. Elsa could conjure up the most magnificent displays of ice and snow with little concentration or exertion.

What Anna feared now more than anything was that she wasn’t magic, and that Hans was using up all her residual magic to keep warm, but eventually it would all run out, and Hans would be lost.

And then Anna would be alone with him in these woods when he turned on her…

He’d be the most dangerous thing in the forest to her then. And that was a terrifying thought.

She wished there was some way she could contact Elsa, but the snowgie connection had to be started from Elsa’s end. Anna couldn’t even conjure a simple fire, let alone some adorable little fire being to send a message.

Maybe Hans had been right. Maybe they should be basking in the warmth of a Blavenian sun on a beach with hot, white sand, waiting for Elsa to defeat the witch, and come find them afterwards. At least in Blavenia they would be warm, and Hans wouldn’t constantly be shivering and chattering his teeth. Nor would his brothers find him so easily—she hoped.

That was Anna’s other pressing concern. Each failed day finding the trolls led the four princes hunting them closer and closer to her and Hans. Time was running out on them from multiple angles. For all Anna knew, Grete might have already had her baby by now, only to have already had it stolen by the witch. Though Anna hoped her sister would send word if something like that had happened.

Anna had to believe that Elsa and Grete were safe, that no harm had befallen them. But oh, how she wished Elsa would send her another snowgie, if only to hear her sister’s voice to confirm her hope as truth.

A single, sharp, snapping sound broke Anna from her thoughts as Hans stopped abruptly. He’d stepped on something hidden in the leaves and muck scattering the forest floor. He lifted his boot slowly before dropping to a crouch to retrieve the object.

“What is it?” Anna asked, peering around him to see. Hans held up a small child’s toy. It was a little carved figure of a soldier, or a prince, with flakes of paint chipping off the weather-worn wood, grey with age. The little sword that was supposed to be in the outstretched hand, had been broken off revealing new, white wood. That had been the snap Anna heard.

The discovery of a child’s plaything in this particular forest put Anna immediately on edge. “Well, that’s the creepiest thing we’ve come across in here yet.”

But Hans didn’t answer her, or even smile at her remark. He just stared at the figure, disappearing into himself again. He was far too preoccupied with the toy, which gave Anna a bad feeling about it. They should put it back where they had found it. There was nothing more alarming than finding something in a place that it should not be, especially if it was a child’s toy.

“Hans.” She placed her hand on his sleeve. “Put it back.”

“It’s mine,” he answered, his voice sounding far off and dreamy.

“Hans,” Anna said again, trying to keep the worry out of her tone.

“I wrote my name on the bottom, see?” He tipped the figure upside down, and sure enough, Anna could see the letters H, A, N, S, painted in a child’s hand on the bottom of the figure. He looked away from the figure then, glancing around the forest with a slight frown on his face. “I…was lost here once as a boy.”

He tucked the toy into his coat pocket and scratched his head as if remembering the day for the first time since it happened. “How could I have forgotten that? I must have been around five years old. It was a royal hunting party, and I was allowed to go, though Stefan was supposed to be keeping an eye on Klaus, Lennart and I because we were too young to join the hunt. But I was too small and slow to keep up with their games and they’d lost me…on purpose.” Hans paused, stepping forward, looking around the forest again. “I called and called for them, but they pretended not to hear me. I spent the whole day wandering the forest calling for help, until I found the cottage.”

“Cottage?” Anna asked dubiously. “There’s a cottage in here?”

Hans only nodded, but again his gaze circled the forest. “It’s this way.” He stopped and pointed west of the direction they had been travelling in. “She had cake and milk for me, and she read me stories.”

“She?” Anna frowned in concern. “Someone actually lived this far into the forest?”

Hans nodded again. “An old woman. I thought her very much like a grandmother, though far nicer than my own. Her hair even matched mine, but with streaks of grey.” He bit his lip, deciding something. “She was like what a grandmother ought to be.”

“And obviously she brought you back to your family after cake and stories.”

“Yes, but not directly. She told me which way to go and I followed the path. Everyone was so surprised to see me. They’d thought I was lost for good, and were all heading home without me, and then out I popped from the underbrush as if I had always been there.”

“I bet they were relieved to see you.” Anna couldn’t begin to imagine how awful it would be to lose a child in these woods, and even if his mother hated him, Hans had already stated that his oldest brothers didn’t really.

“No…they…looked frightened, now that I think on it. I don’t remember being gone from them for more than a day, but when I found them again, my father and oldest brothers had a few days worth of beard growth. We were never back to hunt in the eastern woods again after that.”

Hans was already moving to the direction he’d pointed in. “I bet that cottage is still there. Come on.”

Anna decided it was worth a try, a cottage _would_ be nice, but then so had a nice, cool sip from a stream a few nights back, and Anna wondered if it was a trap. But Hans was already aware of those things that prowled the forest, searching for unwary victims, so it was unlikely that he had fallen into a trap. And he did have a pocket of iron nails.

She followed after him, taking his hand in hers when she reached him. She shivered at his touch; the sting of cold from the contact zipping right through to her veins. She gritted her teeth, fighting the impulse to snatch her hand back from the pain of his touch. She just needed a few minutes to acclimate herself to his temperature and she’d be fine.

A cottage would be very good indeed. She needed to get Hans out of this rain and in front of a roaring fire before he was lost to the witch.

They hadn’t travelled very far before they found what looked to be a once well-worn path, now overgrown, snaking through the dense trees. Anna didn’t see how a cottage could possibly exist this far into the forest with so many trees growing so closely together. There was hardly any room. Sitron was having a difficult time making his way through, and Anna wondered if they’d be able to keep travelling with the horse.

The moment she heard the sound of a stream, she froze stiff, abruptly halting. “Hans.”

“It’s only a stream, Anna,” he answered with a bit of annoyance.

She remembered that she hadn’t exactly told Hans about when she had heard the stream before, tricked by that awful creature lurking in the woods. She looked behind her at Sitron for reassurance. The horse made no indication that anything was amiss, so Anna continued on.

“There it is.” Hans’s voice went soft with relief as he quickened their pace.

The cottage looked weathered but inviting, and at this point, it could have been a horribly decrepit, rotting structure and Anna still would have gone inside, so desperate to get out of the rain as they were. They all but ran up to the door, Hans knocking sharply, though it was obvious the cottage was no longer in use. She was surprised with his manners.

Anna looked around at the overgrown, weedy garden, and empty hay trough under a tarped, partially fenced shelter meant for livestock. Sitron plodded ahead, immediately going under the shelter. Even he had had enough of the rain. Anna looked past Sitron, and through the trees, she could see the stream they’d heard just a little ways from the cottage.

“It’s open,” Hans called to her, before disappearing inside the cottage. Anna hurried after him. She was astounded at how tidy the inside was. Even for being uninhabited for what looked like a long time—judging by the thick layer of dust covering the surfaces—everything was in neat order. The furniture had been covered with large white sheets, the hearth swept clean of ashes and soot.

Anna was already moving to the wood box, hoping dry, chopped wood lay inside. There was, and she almost cried out in joy when she lifted the lid. Plenty of wood and kindling lay neatly inside.

Hans was beside her with the matches as she piled some kindling and wood into the small fireplace, the strike of a match never a more satisfying sound to her ears. Finally, after two days of hopeless, miserable wandering, things were starting to look up. While they had yet to find the trolls, they had at least found decent shelter. The fire took, and soon a roaring, pleasant warmth filled the cottage. Both she and Hans exhaled in relief.

The fire lit up the whole room, and Anna could get a better look at the surroundings. Hans had begun to strip the white sheets off the covered furniture revealing a table and chairs, a rocker, a few chests, a bed and a small end table.

Anna went and opened one of the two shuttered windows to let some air in and clear out the dust Hans had disturbed. Rain splattered inside a little, but not enough that they couldn’t get some fresh air into the long closed up cottage first before closing the window.

Most of the little things that made a house a home had been packed up into the chests that Hans was now going through, but a few odd trinkets remained on the sparse shelves. Anna thought it strange that some stuff was clearly packed away, while others not. She ran a finger along the dust layering a shelf, before picking up the sole object left sitting on it, caked in dust.

It was a figure of a princess, carved in wood, about the same size as the one Hans said belonged to him. Instinctively, Anna tipped the figure upside down, to see that yes, Hans’s name had been painted on the bottom of this one too in the same sloppy hand of a child. She smoothed her thumb over the surface of the figure, brushing away the dust to find a lovely and delicately painted princess with pretty reddish-gold hair and a lush green gown painted intricately with little flowers. A little gold crown sat atop the head.

“I haven’t seen that in ages,” Hans commented behind her, and Anna quickly handed it to him. He turned the little figure over in his hands, a slight smile on his face. “My nursery maid’s husband carved me a set. It was a prince, a princess, a horse, and a villain of some sort—a dragon, I think. I didn’t have that one for very long. Klaus threw it in the nursery fireplace. I still have the horse though.” He reached across Anna and put the princess back on the shelf. “I gave the old woman the princess as a thank you, since I had nothing else to give her for the cakes and milk. It would have been rude not to.”

He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the toy prince and placed it on the shelf beside the princess. It was then that Anna noticed that the prince had been painted to look like Hans. Even though the paint was faded and cracked, Anna could tell the red paint for the hair, the green dots for eyes, the blue trousers and black riding boots with a grey tailcoat—all like a traditionally dressed Southern Isles prince.

“It looks like you,” Anna said aloud.

“Well, yeah,” he answered as if that should have been obvious. “It was made for me.”

Anna stared at the wooden pair on the shelf, now a set, reunited again after a length of time from being apart, and felt a lump rise in her throat. She suddenly didn’t like looking at the little carved figures anymore. They made her uncomfortable, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.

And then Hans said it, a bit of a chuckle on his lips. “She kind of looks like you.”

Anna forced out a laugh, though the statement had her wanting to do anything but that. The little carved princess did look like her, like how she had looked the day they had met on Arendelle’s docks. It unnerved her, and Anna turned away from the figures on the shelf. She almost bumped right into Hans’s chest, he was standing so close.

“I should go get the packs off of Sitron.” Anna ducked around him and hurried outside before Hans could object.

She wished he would stay inside the cottage, he needed the warmth much more than she did, and she suddenly needed some space from him. But, as it was, Hans never really left her side, or had her out of his sight. He was always close by. Even now. Choosing her in the rain over a dry fire. Anna had gotten used to it, just as she had gotten used to holding his hand almost all the time. It was habit now.

So much of a habit that her hand felt empty at times when his wasn’t there. It was the same with sleeping. She was accustomed to Hans curled up against her, nearly covering her with his body while they slept. Carol would have a fit. They never started out sleeping like that. Hans always maintained a respectable distance before they fell asleep, but Anna always woke with him nestled up against her, shivering. Neither spoke of it.

Anna knew it wasn’t his fault, just as she knew that there was no intention behind it other than him subconsciously seeking out warmth. Which is why she allowed it. The nature of it could be construed as inappropriate, but the intent was innocent. Anna didn’t see the point in discussing it. It was an uncomfortable topic for both of them, and as far as she was concerned, an unnecessary one. Once the curse he was under was broken, it would all stop, and neither would think anything of it.

They carried the saddle bags and the rest of their supplies into the cottage. The house had aired out sufficiently, so Anna shut the open window. Hans was already removing his wet clothing, this time having no qualms removing his waistcoat and shirt in front of her. Anna averted her eyes.

“There are some old smocks in that trunk by the bed that might fit you,” Hans said as he took some twine from one of their packs and began tying it on a beam, pulling it across the low ceiling, and making a clothes line to hang their wet garments.

Anna had turned to answer, had _meant_ to answer, but her voice dropped at the sight of his chest. A small patch of his skin had turned a sickly shade of pale blue ringed with white frost. It was about the size of Anna’s fist, and located over his heart.

Hans frowned at her. “What?”

“Your—your _chest_ ,” she stammered, pointing.

He rolled his eyes. “I thought we were past all that. Last time you were the one telling me to remove my clothing—”

“No! Look at your chest!” Anna pointed more urgently, holding out her hand for him to grasp. “You’re freezing again!”

Hans looked down, his eyes widened when he saw the patch of frozen skin. He swore under his breath, before scrambling for her hand. They grasped hands tightly, both staring intently at the spot on his chest.

Nothing happened and the spot remained.

“How do you feel?” Anna asked after several minutes.

“It doesn’t feel like it does when it usually happens. I don’t really feel anything. It’s just sort of there.” His eyes met hers. “You can fix this though, right?” The tone in his voice said he expected her to fix it.

Anna stepped towards him, drawing her hand to his bare chest. She could feel the cold air surrounding the spot the closer she drew her hand to it. It was like placing her hand in an icebox. She pressed her palm onto the spot, and instantly felt an unbearable cold. She had barely touched him, and the pain was incredible. So cold her hand felt as though it was burning. Yelping, Anna snatched her hand away, cradling it against her chest.

“It’s like with Lennart,” he said quietly.

Anna swallowed hard and nodded. She could see the worry threaded in his eyes.

“Let me see your hand.” His voice was so soft that Anna couldn’t refuse. Her hand trembled as she held it out to him. She flinched when he went to touch her. At her reaction, he drew his fingers back from her, curling them into a fist. He dropped his hand awkwardly by his side, never touching her. “Anna, you’ve got frostbite.”

It was mild, nothing that being inside the cottage or sitting by the fire wouldn’t cure in time, but Anna couldn’t stop shivering in any case. “I need to get out of these wet clothes.”

Hans nodded, turning his back to give her privacy.

Anna cringed when she realized she needed help removing her clothing. The hand she had touched him with had gone numb, and proved useless in undoing any of her lacings or buttons. “I need help.”

“Of course,” he answered politely, and much too steady.

He approached her slowly from behind to untie her bodice. His fingers tugged at the strings laced up her back, loosening it enough so that he could pull it up over her head. He undid the button on her skirt, and Anna felt the material begin to slip from her hips before he methodically moved in front of her to undo the front of her blouse. He worked nimbly, his face focused on her chest, but his expression completely neutral, aside from a small tick in his jaw.

Anna avoided looking at him as best she could. Her face burned in mortification. And for the millionth time this week she thought, _Carol would have a fit_. Hell, even Elsa would have a fit this time.

Hans was nothing but efficient and moved to her wrists, unbuttoning the cuffs of her sleeves. Once that was done, his hands flitted over her open blouse. His fingers would curl slightly and he’d pull his hands back before moving them towards her again. The anxious movement reminded Anna of little fluttery hummingbirds as he tried to decide if he should help her remove the blouse.

“Do you need me to—” his breath caught in his throat, “—help take that off?”

Anna shook her head no, positive that her face could not get any redder than it was. “No, I think I can manage, but I’ll need you to untie my…uh, corset.”

“Yes, of course.” His voice still polite but sounding less steady than when he’d started. He turned his back to her, his hand running through his hair. “Just…let me know when you’re…um, ready.”

Anna pulled the wet fabric of her blouse off with little trouble using one hand. She wished the same could be said for her corset. Even dry with two hands it was tricky to get out of, and while it certainly wasn’t as wet as her bodice and blouse were, it was still wet, and she only had one hand.

She took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh. She was really going to let him do this. There was no way around it unless she wanted to continue wearing the cold, clammy undergarment.

She heard him rummaging in the trunk.

“I’m ready,” she said to him.

“I, uh…I found you a chemise.”

He was behind her again, and Anna heard him swallow hard before his arms reached around her, drawing close enough that she could feel his warm breath on the nape of her bare neck. It sent a different sort of shiver through her, one that heated her to her core.

For as close to her as he was, he did very well not to touch her unnecessarily, even by accident. His hands fished out the ends of the loose string wrapped around her waist. He began to slowly unravel the string from her, keeping care not to tangle it while he worked. His fingers were soon at her back, working up her spine, and Anna heard him swallow again. His breath fell in heavier pants against her neck.

He made the smallest sound, almost like a whimper when the corset was finally loose enough that it slipped down from her chest, freeing her breasts. Taking another deep breath herself, Anna raised her arms above her head, like she did when he removed her bodice. “Could you?”

“Yes, of course.” He seemed to be stuck in a loop with that phrase, answering it again, just as politely as all the other times he’d uttered the words.

There was nothing polite about what they were doing. Anna was sure that with much struggling she could get the corset off by herself, but this way was so much quicker, and Anna desperately wanted to feel warm and dry again.

Hans was swallowing hard again, gulping down air as though he couldn’t get enough and Anna wondered stupidly if he was thirsty, rather than acknowledging the truth. His hands lingered at her waist, resting on the corset—a weight and warmth she was all too aware of. She almost asked what he was waiting for when he finally pulled it up and off of her.

He shoved the chemise into her back with record speed. Anna nearly dropped the chemise trying to grab it backwards from him before he quickly retreated to the other side of the small room. He stood with his back stiffly turned to her. Anna only looked at him once to make sure his back stayed turned while she took off her drawers. He looked agitated, his hands repeatedly raking through his hair again.

“Are you all right?” she called to him in concern, pulling the dry fabric over her head.

“Fine,” he clipped back with a sharp edge to his voice. “Are you decent yet?”

“Yes,” Anna answered tugging the threadbare chemise down over her hips. “It’s a bit big though.” The chemise gaped at the neckline with one sleeve constantly slipping off her shoulder.

Hans turned around, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at the sight of her, before he averted his gaze with his hand. His cheeks had gone bright red, the most colour Anna had seen on him in days. He whirled around, turning his back to her. “Perhaps there is something else in the chest to layer over it.”

Anna shrugged and went to look. While the chemise was a little immodest, she didn’t think it had warranted that kind of reaction from him. He’d just seen her in only drawers and a corset. The chemise had to be more appropriate than that. It was only a little see through, she decided, and it didn’t hang poorly enough to reveal anything Hans hadn’t seen before when she wore a ballgown.

“There might be something for you,” she said as she dug through the chest. “You haven’t taken off your trousers yet.”

He didn’t answer her, so she didn’t think he heard her.

“I’m going to go get water from the stream,” he said after a few minutes.

He was already out the door before Anna could answer. She frowned. Hans never went that far from her. She wondered why he didn’t wait for her to finish dressing, so they could go together. The stream wasn’t far, but it was the furthest distance he’d been from her since they started this journey. Anna found that she was uncomfortable having him out of her sight. She went back to her rummaging, hoping to find something quick and catch up to him.

Anna pulled a grey smock out that looked about her size. She slipped it on over the chemise, but found that it was much too small, and tugged it off. Other articles were the same—too small or too big. Nothing in the chest seemed to be her size. Further to the bottom of the trunk she found a lovely wool shawl and slipped it over her shoulders, but by that time, Hans was already back with the water.

His hair was matted to his forehead, and water droplets glistened off his bare chest. Anna almost scolded him for going out without a shirt. What if he froze? Except she noticed that he wasn’t trembling or shivering anymore. Aside from the frozen spot on his chest, Hans’s rosy complexion had returned, his lips no longer a bluish purple, his eyes looking less hollow. The more she thought about it, his hands had not been ice cold either when he’d helped her undress.

Being in the cottage was helping him, she concluded. Maybe with time here in the warmth, the spot on his chest would fade away too.

It was always a gamble what the best way was to spend what precious little time they had. Did they stay in the cottage to recover fully, or did they continue to search for the trolls?

“I think it’s best we stay and rest for a bit. Let our things dry out properly,” Anna decided out loud. “We can head out this evening.”

Hans didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled out a towel from a chest and used it to rub his hair dry. He seemed hesitant to remove his trousers, even though they were clearly soaked and clinging to his legs and lower body rather lewdly.

“You really need to get out of those,” Anna blurted without thinking.

Something primal and hungry flashed in his eyes for a brief second at her words, and Anna instinctively looked away. She was courting danger saying such things to a man, or at least that’s what Carol would be telling her. But Hans didn’t think of her like that. It was _Hans_. To him, she was just that person he had to rely on to keep him from freezing, nothing more. There was no hint of interest, no hint of attraction, because it didn’t exist. He’d had ample opportunity to try something when he’d helped her undress, but didn’t.

“I know,” he answered quietly. “I thought it best we had everything we needed from outside first.”

That made perfect sense. Anna decided that it was also very pragmatic, especially since she had been ready to venture out in the rain again in the dry clothing she had found. All to chase after Hans.

“I think I’ll call it an early night,” he said. “You’ll watch me?” A nervousness to his voice.

“I always do,” Anna replied. “I’ll join you in a bit anyways.”

His jaw twitched at her reply. He stared at her for what she felt was a touch too long before he went to the bed, quietly removing his trousers. Anna went to sit by the fire to give him the same privacy he had given her earlier. She heard him rustling behind her, hanging his trousers on the line. When he had wrapped himself up in a blanket and nestled himself into the far side of the bed, his back to her, Anna got up to hang up her own wet clothing.

She fixed herself something to eat, still aware that Hans was awake. Usually he had no problems drifting off to sleep, often within minutes of closing his eyes. Today, he was restless, cagey. It was as though he couldn’t quite get comfortable, his body much more agitated than before. Anna watched him silently from her spot by the fire. She always made mental notes to herself about changes in his behaviour and appearance.

He had seemed to improve since being in the cottage, but the spot on his chest worried her. If it spread, soon he’d be like Lennart, and Anna wouldn’t be able to save him at all.


	16. Chapter 15

Anna didn’t know how long they had slept for, but she remembered when she had finally gone to lie down beside Hans. The fire had been low, and she had tossed another log on to keep them warm while they slept.

She had squeezed into the narrow bed beside him, nudging him to roll onto his back so she could hold his hand the way they always did. Only this time, their bare forearms touched as well. The shock of a bit more skin to skin contact was a comfort to Anna. It felt safer somehow to touch more of him, though she didn’t want to admit that it was because she was slowly losing him to the witch with each passing day. She couldn’t shake the thought that soon holding his hand wouldn’t be enough.

It was stupid, but before she drifted off, she had the distinct feeling that something was watching over them, keeping them safe, like the cottage was hallowed ground and she could sleep soundly. She had fallen asleep rather quickly, and had a quiet, dreamless sleep. The first in a long time.

She awoke to the sound of birds chirping pleasantly outside, a sound she had not heard in this forest until today. Odd, muted strips of sunlight shone in through the cracks in the shuttered windows. Anna cursed silently to herself. They had slept too long, and all through the night. But at least the rain had finally stopped.

Hans was still asleep, curled nearly on top of her, though lower on her body than she usually found him. Today, his head was nestled against her stomach instead of her breast, one arm slung around her hips with his elbow pressing into the divide between her thighs. A soft thrum of heat coursed through her body when she noticed.

Anna was thankful they had not been sharing a blanket. Even wrapped between their separate blankets, she knew this was a far more intimate position to be in with him than she’d like.

She gave him a gentle shake. “Hans?”

He groaned against her, the vibration of the sound pressing into her belly, sending even more tingling sensations of heat through her body, and ending with a dull ache between her thighs. Anna inhaled, holding her breath, waiting for the distinct feeling of desire to pass. Alarmed that she could feel such a thing with him in the first place.

She almost shoved him off of her but stopped herself. There was no sense letting Hans know that he affected her in such a way. The best way to deal with Hans, she learned, was to be impassive and neutral. Hans was still the same Hans he’d always been, and it’d be foolish to give him anything on her that he could use to his advantage later on.

Hans was mumbling incoherently as he pulled himself away from her, none the wiser to the effect he’d just had on her. Anna breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

He was always rather surly when woken up, as though he preferred his sleeping life to his waking one, and today was no different. She surveyed his face silently; his complexion was normal, but his eyes still had dark circles surrounding them, betraying the poor quality of sleep he’d had. His eye colour still didn’t look right, the golden green hue she knew by heart was still a muddled milky colour, and upon closer inspection, she swore his eyes were even paler in colour than the night before.

“Quit looking at me like that.” He scowled, rising from the bed, and keeping his blanket wrapped loosely around his hips. It was then that Anna remembered he’d slept naked, having nothing dry to change into. But that was neither here nor there, she reminded herself, brushing away any thoughts of desire that had lingered from his touch.

She twisted her body around to watch him stalk through the cottage for his clothing. She was trying to get a look at his chest, or more accurately, the frozen patch on his chest. She only caught glimpses, as he piled his now dried clothing into his arms.

He swore loudly when he noticed the sunlight. He threw open a shutter, as if he couldn’t quite believe it was day.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” he snarked at her, staring out the window. “We’ve lost a whole god damned night!”

It wasn’t often he cursed at her, so she knew he was in more than just _a mood_ this morning. Anna was about to tell him that she wasn’t his keeper, and that it wasn’t all her fault. He could have woken himself up at any time. She wasn’t responsible for how long he slept. And she needed rest too.

Out of the two of them, she’d been the one stuck dozing while cradling his huddled, sleeping form in the forest for the past two days. She had been far more sleep deprived than him, but heaven forbid _she_ get a chance to recuperate. He was so ungrateful it was irritating.

“You should be thankful I woke you at all,” Anna muttered under her breath, feeling less charitable than usual to his ‘I just woke up’ churlishness.

His scowl darkened, and Anna tensed for a fight. They’d been snapping at each other on and off for the past couple of days in the rain, both upset that they had not found the trolls, and both taking it out on the other. What was one more argument with him this morning?

To her surprise, he didn’t rise to the occasion. He clamped his mouth shut guiltily, and Anna watched him with suspicion as he turned his attention to a trunk instead of her. He pulled out towels and a cake of soap.

“Come on,” he said briskly, changing the conversation. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been itching to have a proper bath for days now. The stream isn’t that deep, and it’s close by. It’ll be at its warmest now with the midday sun.”

_Midday? It’s already midday?_

Anna was about to object that she was not going to bathe with him in a stream, but she couldn’t argue that she missed being clean. While the rain water they trudged in for two days had washed away some of the sweat and grit, it was incomparable to a good scrubbing with soap. And what was a bath in a stream _really_ in comparison to everything else she had already done with Hans?

Being clean would set them both in a better mood too.

 _And then a proper meal_ , she decided.

Clean and filled with a decent meal, they’d both be in a better frame of mind to regroup and continue searching for the trolls. Anna got up and followed him to the door.

Hans held out an iron nail he’d tied to some twine to her. “Put this around your neck, and for God’s sake, don’t follow after anything in the water. You stay by me, all right?”

Anna slipped the twine around her neck, the nail resting between her breasts. A sense of unease ran over her. “What’s in the water?”

“Nokkens, probably.” He gave her a wolfish grin, and Anna couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not. “They like to take pretty girls and drown them.”

Anna shivered, reminded of the awful humanoid creature that had tried to lure her away their first night in the forest. She decided that modesty could be damned, she’d stay near Hans in the water. Hans put a twine necklace with a nail over his own neck, a sign that nokkens probably didn’t just go after girls.

It didn’t make Anna feel very safe at all. Arendelle didn’t have such creatures—at least none that Anna had ever seen or heard of. The very idea of being grabbed by something in the water made Anna’s blood run cold.

“That’s horrible.”

Hans shrugged. “Still better to be drowned than a troll wife, I suppose.”

“A troll wife?” Anna asked, having never heard the term before.

“You know, what happens to young women and girls who get taken by trolls,” Hans explained as if what he was saying was common knowledge. “They get kidnapped to become troll brides because there aren’t any female trolls. It’s said to be a horrible fate, to be used up by a troll.”

Anna crossed her arms sternly. _What a bunch of poppycock!_ “There are most certainly female trolls. I personally know some.”

“Really?” Hans asked in surprise as they left the cottage.

“Really,” Anna confirmed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those were just stories to scare girls into behaving.”

“I suppose so,” Hans answered, taking her hand. “I guess I never really thought of it like that.”

Anna followed him to the stream just behind the cottage in silence. That was the problem with the Southern Isles cutting off their relationship with the trolls. Rumour and tall tales had replaced friendships, and look where it had gotten them?

_Making deals with witches, and paying up with babies._

They reached the stream within a few minutes. It had a lovely rocky ledge and a small, gentle waterfall that cascaded down, pooling pleasantly before flowing off into a stream down the forest.

For the sake of propriety, Anna had decided to keep the chemise on while bathing, though the thin, white fabric would hide very little once wet. Apparently, the same thought had already occurred to Hans.

He led them closer to the pool of water by the falls, deciding that was the deeper water, which would give Anna more coverage. His ears and cheeks went red when he’d said it, vaguely motioning at her breasts. It was the only indication Hans gave that he felt awkward about what they were doing, knowing it was highly immodest.

Anna sat beside him on the rocky ledge, her feet dangling just above the water’s surface. She averted her eyes as he slipped into the pool first. The water hit him mid chest, and he hissed at the cold. He held out his hand to her, turning his head, not comfortable looking at her in the chemise. Still, he hadn’t trusted to take his eyes off her unless she was physically touching him first, as though he was certain a few seconds out of his watch could have her spirited away from him.

Anna gasped in shock at how frigid the water was. Her body spasmed into uncontrollable shivers. “You said it would be warm!”

“I said it would be at it’s _warmest_ ,” he corrected through chattering teeth, reaching for the cake of soap.

It was the quickest bath Anna had ever taken in her life. _Next time_ , she decided, she would be content to have a pot of hot water and a sponge inside the cottage, as if she’d actually be in the forest long enough for another bath.

Hans made Anna get out of the water first, which she happily obliged. A quick scrub and washing of her hair had her skin white and lips blue. It felt wonderful to be clean again though, and Anna decided that it had been worth it.

She sat shivering on the rocky ledge, out of the chemise and wrapped in her towel, holding up a pocket mirror for Hans while he stood in the water and shaved. He was very particular about shaving, scowling at his bearded reflection in the mirror, and lamenting how much he missed his manservant.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Anna said carefully. She certainly was not a big fan of the look and preferred his sideburns, though she wasn’t about to tell him that. “I mean, lots of men wear beards nowadays.”

“I hate them,” Hans remarked, lathering up the soap. “And I will never wear one on purpose.”

“You wear the sideburns.”

“That’s different,” Hans answered before scraping his dagger slowly down his cheek, staring intently at the mirror. “I happen to like the sideburns.”

“I like the sideburns too,” she said without thinking.

Hans stopped mid-stroke and glanced up at her.

Flustered, Anna quickly cautioned, “You’re going to cut yourself. I hardly think that dagger was meant to be a substitute for a proper razor.”

“Amateurish cuts all over my face are still better than a beard.” He tilted his neck up, and Anna followed the blade with her eyes as he pulled it over his jugular, pausing before speaking. “And this blade is fine. I always keep it razor sharp anyways.”

Anna found it rather mesmerizing to watch him. He was very precise in his movements, his hand steady and controlled, and the look of concentration on his face while he worked had him looking very handsome. She unconsciously bit her bottom lip, squirming in her seat. Add wet and naked to the mix and he was very handsome indeed.

He stopped, and took his eyes off of the mirror, looking up at her. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” When Anna didn’t answer, he continued, “I know how to shave, okay? I’m not an idiot. Stop gnawing on your lip all worried like I’m going to slit my throat.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” Anna glowered, the fantasy of him bursting in her head as quickly as a soap bubble.

His eyes went sheepishly back to the mirror.

“Just hold the mirror still…and for God’s sake, move your towel back up before the damn thing is at your waist.”

Anna tugged at her towel, though it really hadn’t slipped that far down. If it wasn’t for the crude language, she’d swear he sounded just like Carol.

She couldn’t wait to get back into the cottage and eat something. The appeal of watching Hans shave was now lost. She held the mirror impatiently until he was finally done, and looking very much how she preferred him. Satisfied with his appearance, he took her hand as they made their way back to the cottage.

Once dried and properly dressed, they sat across from each other at the little table, eating what was left of the hard cheese and stale bread. They were both in much more civil moods, agreeing that they should continue to search for the trolls after they ate. Even in daylight they should try to make up for lost time.

They packed up their supplies, and closed up the cottage.

Sitron snorted in disagreement as they left the cottage behind. Anna felt sorry for the horse. The forest past the cottage was much denser and on less even ground than what they had travelled before. It made it hard for Sitron to keep up.

They decided to continue on west, hoping they’d have better luck. They had found the cottage by going west, so it felt lucky somehow to keep walking in that direction. The terrain had gotten rockier, and Anna felt this was a good sign, trolls often camouflaged as rocks during the day, and she kept her eyes peeled for anything that resembled the troll glade she was familiar with back home. She assumed that the Southern Isles trolls would likely live somewhere similar.

It was dusk when she saw it, the outline of a structure up ahead, its full view hidden by trees and a dense overgrowth of shrubs. She squinted, were those stone pillars?

“There’s something up ahead,” Anna cried. “Just through those trees.”

“I see it.” Hans agreed, and they both rushed towards the pillars, Hans took out his sword to cut away the dense overgrowth to clear a path, stepping through as the excess plant life tumbled to the ground.

He suddenly stopped. “What the hell?”

Anna stumbled after him through the entrance he’d cut away, walking right into his back. She peered around him to see what had made him stop so quickly. Her eyes widened. “That’s…that’s not possible.”

Hans stepped cautiously into the familiar little clearing, his sword still drawn. His movements slow and careful as he approached the cottage.

 _The same cottage_ , Anna thought, though there was no way it could possibly be the same one they had just left behind.

She stayed close at Hans’s back as he knocked on the door. When no one answered, he tried the knob. The door opened, and Hans took a small step inside.

“Anna.” His voice was tense. “It’s the same cottage.”

“It can’t be!” Anna brushed past him, only to freeze in mid step. The twine Hans had tied as a makeshift clothes line still hung from the beams, the blankets they had slept in still sat rumpled on the bed. Anna looked to the shelf caked in dust and bit off a cry. The two little carved figures of the prince and princess sat exactly where Hans had placed them in the first cottage. “It can’t be,” Anna breathed again.

Hans grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip, tugging her from the cottage. “Let’s go. Now.” He was practically dragging her, he moved so quickly. It was the first time she’d seen Hans openly panic. Not once, not even when he’d faced off with his frozen brothers in the palace, had Hans looked so frightened. He marched them straight towards the entrance he had cut open and whistled for Sitron.

Both stopped dead when Sitron replied to his master’s whistle from _behind_ them. The colour drained from Hans’s face as he turned to look back at the cottage.

Anna gaped at the horse standing underneath the tarped off enclosure. “It can’t be.” There was no way Sitron would have fit through the opening Hans had cut for them to travel through. Even if the horse had somehow pushed himself through the trees, evidence of that should have been on the horse. Twigs and leaves and stuff should have stuck to Sitron and their packs. Not to mention, they would have _heard_ him.

“Sitron, come on,” Hans said gently, and Anna noticed that Hans did not approach his horse. He wouldn’t step any closer to the cottage.

The horse gave a pleasant neigh, but flatly ignored Hans’s command. Instead, Sitron dipped his head into the empty trough. Anna sucked in a breath, at least it _had_ been empty before, now Anna could hear the horse chewing.

“Please, Sitron.” Hans’s voice had gone quiet and desperate, another first for Anna. Hans fished a lump of sugar from his coat pocket, but even bribing did not get Sitron to respond. Hans stood for several minutes watching his horse. The sun had set before he turned around. “Let’s go, Anna.”

He’d given Anna no time to object as he dragged her by the wrist back out into the forest. He deliberately chose a different direction, veering them back to their original direction of north, making sure they wouldn’t encounter either cottage again. Neither spoke.

 _He’s really scared_ , Anna thought wildly, the idea somehow being ludicrous to her. _Hans is completely freaking out right now._

Anna thought she was the calmer of the two, but then she hadn’t had to leave her beloved horse behind at some sort of enchanted trick cottage in a forest full of awful, magical beings.

They walked until Anna’s feet ached, and she felt as though she’d collapse at any minute. They’d been walking for hours without stopping, in the pitch dark and without any sign of the trolls.

“Hans,” she said breathlessly. “We need to stop.”

He continued to drag her along behind him. “We find them tonight.”

She stumbled over rocks and sticks with each step, trying to keep up, but her legs were giving out.

“Stop it!” she cried, finally sinking to her knees. “I can’t go any further!”

Instead of stopping, he scooped her up and over his shoulder, carrying her the way he had when Elsa had bade him to take her away. There was no reasoning with him, and Anna resigned to being carried, at least this way they both got what they wanted. Anna could rest, Hans could keep moving. _Running away,_ she corrected _._ Wasn’t that his initial plan? To run away? Take off to Blavenia and shirk all responsibility? Anna almost giggled at the ridiculous compromise, but exhaustion had quickly won over, and soon she was sleeping.

* * *

She awoke to a mad stream of cursing and yelling and banging. Anna bolted upright in alarm, snapping her eyes wide open. Hans was no longer carrying her, and she was lying instead in a patch of musty smelling grass.

They were back at the cottage.

A soft neigh followed by a whoosh of air blowing atop her head had Anna looking up to see Sitron standing over her. She’d been sleeping in the pen? She stood up slowly to see Hans railing against the cottage, beating the side of it with a reasonably thick wooden post. She looked over at the fence around the horse pen and saw a hole in the ground where a post had been miraculously pulled up.

Hans was screaming expletives at the house with each hit, having a fine tantrum. Anna rubbed her temples, wincing each time the post connected with the side of the cottage. Obviously, they were not back here by choice, but by magic. And obviously the stress of the situation had finally gotten the best of Hans.

“Hans,” Anna called to him, annoyed, and feeling like a parent.

At the sound of his name, he swung the post even harder at the cottage. The post broke apart on impact, wood splintering everywhere.

“God damnit!” He threw the useless broken stump of wood with all his might into the forest, and promptly kicked the cottage with his foot. He yelped, drawing his foot back in pain, setting off another string of swears.

Anna was deciding how to best approach him while he was clearly in a fit of pure rage. When he stalked back to the horse pen to pull out a new post to continue his tirade with, Anna gently placed her hand on his arm in a gesture to stop. He stood completely still at her touch, breathing hard and fast, his nostrils flaring, and purposely not looking her in the eye. But her touch seemed to soothe him nonetheless, even though he was trying to ignore her and the impact she seemed to have on him.

So, Anna did the only thing she could think of. Wordlessly, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. If he was going to act like a child, then perhaps she should treat him as such. It had more than the desired effect on him, and it occurred to Anna that nobody had probably ever hugged him in his entire life.

Within seconds of the initial contact, he was sinking to his knees in her embrace, wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her closer to him. He buried his head into her stomach, and clutched her tightly. Anna softly brushed her fingers through his hair, noting how soft and feathery the strands were. In time, his breathing had slowed to match hers.

She didn’t know how long they stood there embracing, but when Hans finally pulled away from her, all his anger had melted away.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice hoarse from all his yelling.

Anna gave a hint of a smile. “While it’s not the best way to wake up, it is effective.”

“This is all my fault. I never should have brought us to the cottage in the first place. I screwed up.” He choked out a defeated laugh. “I fell asleep, and when I woke, we were back here.” He looked down at his feet, embarrassed. “Again, I’m sorry. That’s not how a prince behaves.”

“I’ve seen you behave much worse,” Anna reminded him, suddenly wishing she hadn’t brought _that_ up.

Their terrible past.

He looked at her then, his eyes searching hers for something. Anna wanted to look away from him then, but when he wanted to, he could command her attention in a way that no man ever could.

“It…was never personal, what happened…at the end, between you and me. I had imagined things so much differently at the start.”

“I know,” Anna whispered. She knew, because so had she.

“You know, everybody was glad I was leaving here. _Mother_ was certain I would never come back, that I’d cause a shipwreck. It was the first time she’d ever smiled at me.” He gave a small sardonic laugh. “And the gates were only open for one day, and then I met you on the docks, and you were so different from anyone or anything I’d ever known—the way you looked at me, the things you said—” He swallowed, and looked away. “But it was never really me you wanted. It was your sister. After everything we shared, you still left me there, all by myself, so you could go chase after her. I was never going to be first with you.”

“Hans—”

“And I still don’t get it. I still can’t see why you were so sure you could save her, why you even _needed_ to save her…why you wanted to. How after everything she had done to you your entire life, you could still see the good in her.”

“Elsa’s not like your brothers.”

“And I’m not like you. I thought I was, I thought we were the same. I thought you knew exactly what it felt like to be me. I thought once she had abdicated her throne and run off, you and I were going to rule together. It would have been so easy. So perfect. Nobody would have gotten hurt.” He heaved a sigh. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed with me instead of chasing after her? Things would be so much different if you had just chosen me. We could have been happy.”

“It wasn’t a competition. You were never completing with Elsa for my affection,” Anna answered softly, tears pricking her eyes. “I loved you in an entirely different way.” Anna paused. “And you’re right, I think we could have been happy, just not the way you wanted. You didn’t need to be king. You could have given that up for me.”

Hans remained silent for a few painstakingly long minutes.

“You never should have been at the docks that day. You were supposed to be tucked away in the palace like a normal princess. I never should have met you first. The plan was always to court and marry Elsa, not you.”

“I don’t understand, are you saying that you had never planned on murder? Only marriage?”

“You were never the one I should have been dancing with.”

“Then why did you?” Anna asked, feeling a sudden rush of anger. “Why didn’t you just keep to your stupid plan? You never even bothered with Elsa! Not once! You had plenty of opportunities to approach her. You didn’t even try! Instead you wasted all your time on me! You—”

Anna froze with a gasp, the realization of what she was about to say had them both holding their breath. He was trying to hide it, but his eyes said it all.

“You liked me,” she said slowly, suddenly feeling dizzy. “You liked me enough to change everything.” It was a horrifying revelation. Murder had never been in mind from the start. Anna had been the catalyst. Anna had been that unknown variable that messed up his original plan. Until Anna, his goal had solely been the crown. He had wanted the crown, and only the crown, and he would have pursued Elsa to get it. Would have courted her, would have tailored his personality to fit that of what Elsa needed, desired.

But then he’d met Anna. He’d accidentally fallen for the wrong princess when he’d never intended to actually fall for anyone.

And suddenly he’d wanted two very different things at the exact same time. He’d changed his plans to try and fit her into his life, into his plan.

And everything had gone wrong from there. Everything that followed had been the aftermath of his misguided affection mixed with his obsessive ambition. It left Anna speechless, and with so many unanswered questions. She stared at him, not daring to even broach the subject out loud. But it sat there between them in the silence, the white elephant in the room.

 _If_ he’d kissed her in the library, there was a small, teeny tiny chance that it might have actually worked. He might have been able to save her. He could have had her, and not the crown.

He’d chosen the crown.

“It might not have worked,” he answered as though he’d read her mind. “And then I’d have been left with nothing.”

“It might’ve,” she answered back. “But you were too afraid to try. It was easier to have the crown than keep my heart. You knew in the end you could only have one successfully.”

“I don’t regret it,” he stated firmly. “Breaking your heart to get the crown. You could never understand how much I needed it. How it was worth more than you. You were going to die anyway. _She_ did that to you, not me. If anything, it only steeled my resolve. She had everything I ever wanted and she treated it like garbage.”

“That’s not true! It was an accident! Elsa ran because she loved me. She was trying to protect me! She was trying to protect Arendelle!”

“See?” he said finally, squaring his jaw. “You’re not like me at all.”

It was true, she wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Anna would never understand why he had needed to be king so badly. Why he was willing to kill for it. She could fit together some pieces of Hans to see more of the puzzle, but it wasn’t enough for the full picture.

“There’s nothing you regret? Nothing at all?” She didn’t know why, but she had to ask. She already knew the answer, but she had to make him say it, as if words could somehow make her understand him better.

Or finally put the past to rest.

“No, nothing I regret,” he answered, his voice wavering slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not sorry you and I never got our happy ending.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“It’s better this way, Anna.” He stepped back, distancing himself from her again. “You have to have at least one bad one under your belt, and that’s me. Even if I had loved you, you were always out of my realm, and your sister could see that. You and I both know you deserve someone better than me. It’s a shame she wouldn’t let you marry your ice harvester.” He stood there, aloof and closed off, nonchalantly rubbing the back of his neck. The shift in attitude so subtle, like silently slipping on a mask and pretending to be someone new. “Now, how do you suppose we get away from this damn cottage?”


	17. Chapter 16

It didn’t matter how far they traveled or in which direction. They would always come across the cottage. Anna was at the point where it didn’t make sense to keep trying to leave, since each time they both fell asleep—and they always would—they would wake up in the yard back at the cottage.

Whatever magic they had fallen under, it wanted them at the cottage, though Hans refused to enter it again. He wouldn’t let Anna go inside either. Anna thought that Hans was being irrational, but then, she had never found the reappearing cottage off putting the way Hans did.

She remembered their first night finding it and how even though she had felt a presence, it hadn’t been malicious or mean. It had felt safe and warm, familial. And Hans was getting better just from being inside. She remembered how pale and cold he had been arriving, only to miraculously be much more like himself after a short time inside.

Anna was also much more comfortable around magic. It didn’t weird her out or unnerve her the way it did with Hans. She supposed it was because she had a sister who was magic, and lived in a place where trolls were embraced, and their magic respected. Hell, she might even be magic herself.

Hans lived in a place where magic was feared and transformed into scary bedtime stories for children, and his family was cursed. And while Anna had certainly had some frightening experiences with magic, she was not afraid of the reappearing cottage. Not the way Hans was.

It had to be safe. Anna was convinced of this already, if not because of her own feelings, then because of Sitron’s. Hans’s horse had been aware of the dangers of the forest, sensing safety and danger better than Anna or Hans could, and not once had Sitron ever been ill at ease or agitated by the cottage. In fact, the horse had welcomed it.

Whatever reason they were being sent back to the cottage, Anna was certain that the answer was waiting for them inside.

Hans didn’t want to hear it.

Things had been tense between them since they’d spoken about their unpleasant past, and Anna had been giving him a wide berth because of it. She’d been walking on egg shells around him while pretending that everything was fine. He’d hurt her with his words even though she loathed to admit it. They’d been avoiding each other politely ever since.

But Anna was done playing nice, and catering to his whims.

Ever since they had entered the forest, he had been the guide, the expert, but Anna was looking after him too. He kept her safe from the things in the forest, while she kept him safe from the witch and the curse.

And Anna couldn’t keep doing her job with Hans hindering it. It was a house of cards. If Anna couldn’t protect Hans from the curse, then Hans couldn’t protect her from the forest. They needed each other right now whether they liked it or not.

She knew where she stood with Hans—where she had _always_ stood with him, and a part of her hated him for it, but right now, that wasn’t what was important.

How someone felt about her wasn’t why she helped them or not. She helped because it was the right thing to do. And even after everything Hans had done to her in the past, and even though he didn’t regret a single bit of it, Anna was still committed to helping him, because he needed her to. It was incredibly trying for her, but it was the right thing to do.

And right now, the right thing to do was go into that cottage.

There were far more important things at stake than their feelings.

Like Elsa.

Like Grete and her baby.

Like innocent people.

Like the breaking of curses, and finding the trolls.

Elsa would never have sat idle for so long. Elsa would have known what to do, and Elsa would have done it already. She would have been logical and practical and focused on the task at hand. Elsa wouldn’t have let her emotions get the better of her. Elsa would be ‘other Elsa’, and she’d be in control of herself.

Anna needed to be ‘other Anna’.

She stood up from where she and Hans had been sitting. “All right, enough of this.”

Hans stiffened beside her. She ignored him. She strode towards the door of the cottage.

He was in front of her, blocking her from the doorway in a flash.

She kept her voice steady and hard. “Move, Hans.”

He shook his head. “I can’t let you go in there.”

“You’re not well,” she said, keeping her voice firm. And she saw it was true, and felt stupid for not noticing it until now. His eyes had almost lost all the green in the irises now, the colouring only the palest of greens.

She hadn’t thought he was that bad off, and swore under her breath for not paying better attention. In the past few days, she had assumed that because he hadn’t been cold to touch or shivering against her that he was doing okay. He hadn’t even curled up beside her the last few times they slept. She’d let her guard down. Anna could see now that it was a trick, a misdirection.

She could see that it wasn’t Hans keeping her from going into the cottage anymore. Maybe it had been Hans at the start, and that had been just enough to let the witch get through. He wasn’t himself, and now Anna knew for certain that she had to get inside the cottage.

“You’re not going in there.” Even his voice sounded off.

Anna was about to argue when he pulled his sword on her. She took a step back in surprise.

“Hans?” she asked warily. “What are you doing?”

Without answering, he advanced on her slowly, driving her further away from the cottage door. Her heart sunk.

This.

She had been dreading this moment from the start.

When Hans would finally turn on her.

She had always known it was coming. Right from the very beginning, she knew it was only a matter of time before she wasn’t enough. She knew deep down that she would never be enough. She was just Anna, a nobody. She wasn’t amazing like Elsa, and she wasn’t cunning like Hans, or smart like Grete. Sure, she had hoped to keep the curse at bay, but it had been a fool’s errand. Anna could not stop the inevitable. With each passing day, she knew she was failing everybody—especially Hans.

Her heart thumped madly in her chest as she backed away carefully, keeping out of the sword’s reach should Hans choose to take a swipe at her. Anna was doing her absolute best not to panic, not to show any fear, but deep down she was frantic. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this.

She was almost backed up against the tree line with Hans advancing on her. Her only course of action would be to lose him in the forest if she ran, but what good would that do? That was exactly what the witch wanted. She wanted Anna separated from Hans. Hans wasn’t strong enough on his own. He needed Anna. Even if she wasn’t enough, she was all he had.

She needed to get inside the cottage.

Hans took another step towards her, a sick gleam in his milky, dead eyes. Anna flinched, stumbling backwards, and cursing her footing as she almost fell.

Sitron roared from his shelter, at least that was the only name Anna could give to the sound the horse made. Low and imposing and yet equally high in pitch, like an enraged scream. And the moment Hans had raised his sword to her, he was knocked to the side so violently by a charging Sitron that Hans tumbled to the ground, losing his sword along the way, his body rolling until he was stopped hard by a tree. The sickening crack his body made on contact made Anna wince.

Sitron advanced on his master, his tail flicking so fast and hard that it looked like a switching whip ready to strike. He roared again, keeping Hans trapped on the ground against the tree, buying Anna the time she needed. She quickly ran for the cottage.

“You brave, beautiful boy!” she shouted at Sitron as she ran. “You can have all the sugar left in his pockets, and all of my apples when we get out of this!”

Reaching the cottage, Anna threw open the door, crossing the threshold. She didn’t know what she expected to happen the moment she stepped inside, but ‘absolutely nothing’ had definitely not been on the list.

Anna stood there dumbfounded. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked aloud. She shrieked when a fire sparked in the fireplace all on its own. “Okay…okay, I think I get it now.” She turned to the doorway and yelled, “Sitron, we have to get him in here!”

Getting Hans inside the cottage was harder than Anna had anticipated. It meant she would have to leave the safety of the cottage, and go after him.

It meant she would have to face him.

It meant she would have to confront the monster that was Hans all over again.

It was the last thing Anna wanted to do, even with an enraged stallion on her side. It was this part of Hans that terrified her. And she did not want to relive that past with him. Not when she’d spent the past year trying in vain to forget.

It all came back to her.

She was immediately transported back to that fateful day on the frozen fjord when he’d brandished his sword above Elsa, ready to strike her down with no hesitation and no remorse. Anna remembered with full clarity the monster that was Hans.

He’d been dangerous when he’d locked her to freeze to death alone in the library, but his gentleman’s mask had still remained on his face. He’d been so eerily calm, so self assured and composed—not a hint of true violence betraying the man. Cruel, yes, but violent? No. Somewhere in there, she had thought the man who had stuffed krumkake in his mouth with one bite, and had gone sock sliding, and knew her heart like no other ever had was still in there.

But out on the fjord, he’d been different.

She remembered the maniacal look of glee on his face, the violence in his eyes. The blood he was so readily willing to shed. That side of Hans had never been meant for Anna to see. He had sheltered her from it. He was a monster, and yet even when he’d revealed the truth to her in the library, he had not let her see the full extent of what he was capable of. He had not let her see him at his worst.

She had seen it all by accident.

She wasn’t even supposed to have been _alive_ to see it, let alone take the brunt of it.

Why he chose to hide it from her in the library, she now suspected was because he had liked her. Even in the end, when he’d chosen the crown over her, some small part of him had still liked her.

Hans was not quick to speak of his past actions or full motives, so all she had were the new pieces she’d gathered about Hans mixed in with the old.

But one thing was certain, he hadn’t wanted her to see him like that.

The most frightful moment of Anna’s life had been that sword coming down on her. That brutal swing, so vicious, so cruel and never meant for her.

But all the fear in the world couldn’t make her move and let Elsa take such a blow. Because while Hans was the blackest of villains, he was _her_ villain, not Elsa’s. Anna was the one who had let the viper into the palace. Anna was the one meant to fix her mistake. She had a responsibility to make things right. Elsa didn’t deserve the fate Hans had intended for her, and Anna knew with absolute certainty that she would die first before ever letting him touch her beloved Elsa.

Anna had never been one for heroics.

She only strived to do the right thing.

No matter how much it frightened her.

If she was impulsive, it was only because her heart knew what to do well before her head did.

And right now, her heart was leading her out of the cottage to face Hans. Because somewhere in there she knew that he’d come back to her. She’d get him back from the witch. His voice would be soft and confused, saying her name like a question, and never fully understanding what he was and what she was. But Anna knew. She had always known, even seeing him on the fjord, she’d known.

He was her villain.

And she was the one who wanted him despite that.

She was the one willing to fight for him. She was the one who could see that tiny glimmer of something good in him even when no one else could.

She walked over to the fallen sword and picked it up. Swiping it a few times in her hand, testing the weight before she advanced towards Hans. He was still held at bay by Sitron, but he was laughing, a sound that put Anna on edge.

“Oh Anna, playing at hero again? Trying to prove you’re just as important as your ice queen sister?” He snarled the words at her through the laughter, and Anna was unsure if it was a threat or a taunt. “I can see you pretending to be brave, but I know exactly what it is you fear.”

“Come on, Hans,” she replied stubbornly, making sure to use his name. After all, she was trying to talk to Hans, and not the witch that held him. “It’s time to go inside.”

He grinned. “Do you honestly think I’d make it that easy?”

Anna gave no quarter and swiped the sword to point directly at his throat. If he moved forward even an inch, she’d draw blood. She guessed she was now going to have to talk to the witch.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Hans hissed. “I know exactly what he is to you.”

“You have no idea what he is to me or how many ways he has wronged me,” Anna said quietly, her voice shaking with a fury she had never bothered to acknowledge until now. “I want him, but you? You _need_ him. I have a choice in the matter, you don’t.” She stared directly into those milky white eyes, making herself clear. “And if you don’t think I’ll do it, know this: I am rash. I am impulsive. I will save him with a blade through his throat if I have to. I am capable of so much more than you could ever imagine.”

A deafening screech filled the forest, a raging wind howling up, blowing leaves and dirt through the air. Anna shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself as a power she couldn’t begin to comprehend circled around her. She willed herself to keep steady and not move.

She stood for what felt like an eternity and a day, unwavering, unflinching. Strong in her resolve. The witch gave out first.

And as quickly as it had all started, it had finished. There was silence and calm.

Anna stood there with her eyes scrunched shut, sword still pointed at Hans’s throat. She couldn’t stop shaking now that it was over. Even when Sitron neighed beside her, nudging her sword arm lightly, she couldn’t make herself move from her battle stance.

“Anna?”

And there he was, that voice all soft and confused, never fully understanding what he was and what she was, and a part of her died inside.

“You came for me.” He stared at her in absolute bewilderment.

A tear slid down her cheek.

She would always come for him. She loved him.

Anna dropped the sword to the wayside, all the fight, all the confidence and adrenaline gone. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground then, throwing her arms around him. She buried her face into his chest and cried.

He sat there, stone still, as she sobbed against him. Never raising a comforting hand to stroke her hair, or wrapping her up in his arms to soothe her.

And what did she expect?

He was Hans.

And she was hurt, angry and afraid.

And alone.

And he wouldn’t fix any of that. He couldn’t. He simply didn’t know how.

And Anna finally understood that.

She gave a final sniff, and pulled away from him, packing up her tears for another day. What she needed she was never going to get from him. He wasn’t Elsa, and he wasn’t Olaf. And he sure as hell wasn’t Kristoff.

Sitron nudged his nose against her, a soft nicker in his throat, and Anna leaned her forehead to rest against the soft hair of Sitron’s forehead.

Hans made an indignant huffing noise. “When did you two get so buddy-buddy?” He got up with a groan, wincing in pain, but didn’t inquire as to what happened or why he was sore.

Anna almost wanted to say it anyway if only to relish telling him that his horse had sided with her when push came to shove. Instead, she remained silent.

Hans stretched his arms and shoulders as if her silence was of no consequence. He visibly shivered then. “God, it’s freezing out here.”

He strode into the cottage without hesitation, commenting how pleased he was she had a fire already going.

Anna did not immediately follow Hans back into the cottage. She stood with Sitron in complete silence until even the horse left her side, plodding back to his little tarped off shelter to have some hay. Anna stood outside longer, ignoring the constant damp chill that was forever in this horrible forest, and not wanting to be anywhere near Hans anymore.

She had confronted more than just the witch. And she didn’t like it. Anna had won, but she had not come out of this battle unscathed.

She wanted to go home. Back to Arendelle where everything was nice and safe. Back where she could forget all about Hans, and let the past fade to dust so it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

She felt eyes on her, and turned to see him standing in the doorway of the cottage; watching her with a strange, desperate look in his eye that didn’t suit him at all. It was haunting and heartbreaking all at the same time. She wondered how long he’d been standing there before she noticed.

He held his hand out to her, and it trembled slightly. His sheathed dagger sitting as an offering in his open palm. He looked so lost, and Anna felt like crying again.

“I—” His voice caught. “I think it’s best if you keep this with you from now on.”

Anna couldn’t speak. All that kept her from crying again was the painful lump in her throat, and swallowing it would open another flood gate. She stood rigid.

He tried engaging her again. “It’s cold, Anna.”

He had no idea how true his words were.

When she didn’t answer him, he continued, almost desperately, “I’m sorry, okay? I—” He looked away, staring at the dirt. “I failed. I couldn’t resist when she called…and…it’s all my fault.”

She heaved a sigh and nodded slightly, acknowledging him. But Anna knew the truth; it wasn’t all his fault. She wasn’t enough, plain and simple. She was to blame too. She couldn’t protect him from the witch anymore than he could protect her when it came down to it. 

But she went to him anyway, knowing that no matter how badly she wanted to quit right now, she wouldn’t. She took his dagger from him; slipping the small, sheathed blade into her bodice.

There was so much more at stake than her broken heart.


	18. Chapter 17

The fire roared pleasantly, and warmth radiated the cottage, but Anna couldn’t escape the damp chill that now resided in her heart. When she looked at Hans, she wanted to slap him. Slap him for being stupid, slap him for making her stupid, slap him until he thought about things the way she did. Slap him because the very thought of doing so made her smile.

She didn’t know what to do with all her frustrations and all her failures, and after dealing with the witch through Hans, she just wanted to stand outside and scream. She wanted to throw things, she wanted to cry and swear—she wanted to act exactly as Hans did a few days ago over the reappearing cottage.

She had never felt more inadequate in her entire life.

She laughed at that. A rolling, uncontrollable sound burst forth from her gut, high and barking, the sound of a woman unravelling at all ends. She and Hans did have common ground after all. And it was hilarious. Hilarious that failure was their commonality. Neither were suited for the roles they had taken up; both were useless in this fight. Both still children playing make believe under the shadows of their families. Blavenia had been the right choice.

They had been wandering the forest for days now, on a mad quest stemmed from Anna’s uncontrollable need to fix things, even things that were wildly out of her control. To prove she was needed, to prove that she was just as useful as Elsa. She laughed even harder at that. Why she ever thought that she would be of equal value to help the way Elsa could was beyond her. Even the witch had known how pathetic Anna was in comparison to Elsa.

And as usual, Hans paid no attention to her. He was too wrapped up in himself to care. He stood by the fire, rubbing his arms furiously with his hands. He was back to being cold again. Had Anna been in a better frame of mind, she would have stood beside him at the fire, holding his hand, keeping him safe.

But Anna had been foolish. She had made a dangerous assumption.

She had assumed that it was the cottage that kept him safe from the witch. Safer than Anna could. She’d also let her guard down, thinking the witch wouldn’t try for him again so soon after Anna had defeated her in the last attack.

Anna didn’t know anything was amiss until Hans stumbled backwards away from the fire and towards the bed. In that moment, that call to action, Anna had forgotten about everything that made her heart weep.

“Hans!” Anna rushed to his side the second he’d toppled forward.

She’d never seen him react to the ice like this before. Usually the curse came swiftly, encasing him in ice within minutes. He’d never been conscious and writhing in pain as it happened. Not even when the witch had briefly taken control of him, had Anna seen anything like this.

He was fighting, Anna realized. Actively fighting for control. Fighting to stay with her. Hans was resisting the witch with everything he possessed, trying desperately to _stay_ with Anna.

And it wasn’t enough.

He needed Anna’s help.

Anna knelt beside him, grabbing his face with both her palms. His skin was cold to the touch.

She balked when nothing happened. Her touch had not stopped this new kind of freezing. Something had changed in him and Anna sat helplessly beside him, desperately putting her hands wherever she could touch skin. The reality of failure ever present in her mind.

He convulsed on the ground, his eyes wide, his mouth contorted in a scream that wouldn’t sound. His breathing turning into rapid fast gasps for air. Anna panicked. His eyes had gone a complete translucent milky white. Most alarming, was that the telltale frost and bluing skin of his previous attacks were nowhere to be seen, and yet he was so cold.

His hands clawed erratically at his chest. Over his heart. That was the source. That patch of frozen skin on his chest was to blame.

His body suddenly went limp.

“Hang on!” Anna cried, as she began yanking the buttons on his waistcoat open. When she’d freed him of his waistcoat, and soon his cravat, she moved to his linen shirt as fast as she could, pulling it up from his waist and over his head. She could see the ice pattern now, originating from the patch on his chest over where his heart was located. The sickish blue frost was almost black over the area, as tendrils of the bluish coloured ice snaked across his chest, veining out like roots of a weed in all directions.

She couldn’t directly touch the spot above his heart without being harmed herself. If that happened, she’d be of no use at all.

Instinctively, Anna reached out to a vein of ice that was moving up along his chest to his neck, placing her hand to try and stop it from going any further. Her palm stung with the cold when her skin connected with his. _So cold_. She almost seized her hand back.

_This is not like touching Lennart_ , she told herself fiercely. _This is Hans. Your Hans._

She would not allow the witch to take him ever again. More determined than anything, she pushed her hand down firmly against his skin, embracing the cold. She slid her hand along his chest, following the trail of ice, and shoving it back to his heart where it came from. The tendrils bent to her will and faded beneath her touch, chased back to the blackish frozen spot.

She ground her teeth in anger. “You can’t have him!”

The witch would keep trying, but Anna would keep fighting. She would fight for Hans. The woman was sorely mistaken if she thought Anna would quit after everything she had already been through. She almost laughed; how very wrong the witch was. With each new challenge, Anna only rose to the occasion. She was stubborn like that.

Gripped by a fear that she’d actually lose Hans completely this time, Anna refused to go down without a fight. She’d give it her all.

There was still no response from Hans; she had to work fast. Time was of the essence. Any second and he could be under the witch’s control again, and Anna did not ever want to have to deal with that again. She systematically moved to all the offshoots of ice splayed across his chest, pushing it all back towards his heart until only one vein cascading down his abdomen remained.

She chased after the final offshoot of ice with gusto, her hand sliding past the waist of his trousers. She caught the ice triumphantly below his hip bone, where his thigh met his groin. Anna had barely pressed her hand up against his skin before he moved. His body jolted with a sharp inhale of breath, finally reacting to her touch and coming back to her.

In a hurried, forceful movement, Hans rolled her underneath him. Anna’s cries of surprise were quickly muffled by his mouth upon hers in a heated kiss.

Caught completely off guard, Anna responded to the kiss. She hadn’t meant to. It was wrong, so unbelievably wrong for so many reasons that Anna couldn’t even begin to count them all. This was Hans. _Hans_. The man who had effectively tore her heart out and ripped it to shreds. The man who had tried to murder her sister. The man who had left her to freeze to death. The man who had refused to even try to save her life with a kiss a year ago was now kissing her so furiously that it was obscene.

And she was kissing him back. God help her, she was just as eagerly meeting his tongue with hers. Her lips just as fiercely pressed against his, tasting him for all he was worth, and it was _wonderful_. She moaned softly, feeling the heat of that kiss sear down to her loins, making her ache for his touch. He kissed her harder, his hips grinding into hers with unparalleled neediness, and she could feel him hard against her, aroused and ready. And oh God, she _wanted_ him.

_It’s Hans_ , her mind warned, echoing in the background of her yearning.

She had to stop this before it got any further out of hand. She knew that. Regaining some sense of reason, and marginal control over herself, she managed to get her hands to his chest. She gave him a good, hard shove. The force broke them apart as Hans fell off balance and off of her. With her sanity somewhat restored, she scooted out from under him, sitting up.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

He looked absolutely baffled, his eyes blazing with that beautiful, vibrant green Anna knew all too well. “What am _I_ doing? _You_ were the one with _your_ hand down my trousers!”

Anna recoiled. That wasn’t…she didn’t…

Anger sparked inside her. Her cheeks flushed with rage and humiliation. How could he even assume that she would want to… _with him_? And after he’d almost _froze_?

“You were freezing!” she screeched defensively. “You had ice everywhere! And it wasn’t like last time, a single touch didn’t work. That was the only way I could warm you up!”

“Well, you certainly achieved _that_.” He gave a short, lewd nod to the prominent bulge in his trousers.

Anna sputtered indignantly. Her face redder than before. “It’s not _my_ fault you can’t control your…your…” she could barely say the words, “ _baser instincts_!”

“Your hand was in my trousers! What was I supposed to think?” he snapped back.

“How about next time I just let that witch have you!”

Anger flashed across his face as he stood up. He stepped past her, stalking towards the door, grabbing his shirt and a towel on his way out. He grumbled as he left the cottage and headed towards the stream. “Even you can’t be that naïve. I mean, for God’s sake, Anna, your fingers touched hair!”

Anna gasped, taken aback by the vulgarity of his words. It was _not_ like that. And how dare he? She was a princess!

“Just the fingertips!” she yelled back angrily, her face burning in embarrassment. “And you know, ‘ _you’re welcome_ ’ for saving you. That’s more than you ever did for me!”

He shouted something back at her that Anna didn’t quite make out. It sounded sarcastic. She had a good mind to follow him over to the shore and continue screeching at him like a harpy. Except she didn’t want to see him strip down and dip into the stream…

_Honestly_ , she fumed. It was beyond her how he could think that it was appropriate to even try something like that with her in the first place. Regardless of where her hand had been, he had been on the brink of being taken by the ice. Anna had done what was necessary to get him back.

She hadn’t even thought that there was anything improper about her actions at the time—and what was wrong with Hans that he could think about sex after being so close to succumbing to the curse? That his immediate response upon being saved was to ravish her? Her hands shook, she was so furious with him right now!

She had been really scared this time, and he didn’t even appreciate the severity of how bad it had been. Aside from actually being briefly under the witch’s control, this had been the worst attack he’d had yet. Anna had been afraid that she wouldn’t be able to stop it, that he’d be too cold to touch and that she’d lose him entirely this time. Then suddenly he was rolling her underneath him and kissing her.

Anna could still feel the heat of that kiss burning on her lips. On her tongue. On her mind. She unconsciously raked her hand through her hair. This was bad. Really bad. She was no stranger to a man’s desire, she had been with Kristoff in some pretty racy embraces. She was well aware of what passion was, which was why she hadn’t freaked out the moment Hans had rolled on top of her and took her mouth with his.

But Hans had kissed her very differently than any of the countless times Kristoff had.

Hans’s kiss lingered, it made her want more. She’d never felt such a desperate, longing desire while in Kristoff’s arms. Not like she just had with Hans. Kristoff had never been so shockingly blatant in his efforts either. Hans hadn’t even bothered to try and mask his desire. He’d made it perfectly obvious. And _oh,_ how Anna had responded to him!

It could not happen again.

She could not admit, even to herself, that she wanted it to.

To do so would be to invite a viper into her bed. Hans was ruthless, he was manipulative, and he was vicious. She knew all of these things from first hand experience. Hadn’t she just relived that truth over with him only a short while ago? She should know better. Elsa would be so ashamed of her right now.

Even though Anna knew the history that had made him the man he was, he was still that man. Knowing his past didn’t make him any less dangerous. If anything, it made him more dangerous. It had made her sympathetic to him, just as seeing him cursed did.

It didn’t matter that Hans was attractive or that his kiss made her heart sing. Hans was dangerous. End of story.

She’d always had lingering feelings for him and being in his company had not helped the situation at all. It had only made it worse. If he ever found out how she truly felt, he’d use it against her. She was sure of it. He’d done it before.

And why did he have to go and kiss her like that in the first place? It didn’t make any sense at all to her. Hans was not interested in her _that_ way. He had never been attracted to her like that. At least that was what she had been telling herself this entire time. She was the one masking her attraction for him, not the other way around. Right?

They had crossed a line and were now treading on very unstable ground. She never should have allowed him so many liberties on her person in the first place.

She never should have constantly held his hand, never should have let him sleep curled up against her, never should have asked him to help her undress, and certainly, she never should have bathed with him. What had she been thinking?

She’d been thinking she didn’t affect him. He had always remained a gentleman. Always remained impartial. Not once had he given her any indication that he felt anything but indifferent towards her. He’d never tried anything with her during all those other times. It had only strengthened Anna’s belief that Hans had no interest in her. She’d gotten too comfortable around him, too familiar. Too safe.

If she had just adhered to the social norms, obeyed the rules, she wouldn’t be in this mess right now. She had lived in this bubble that Hans wasn’t a threat to her unless he froze and turned. Ignoring the more obvious threat that being around Hans presented.

She had never once really considered how inappropriate it was that she was unmarried and unchaperoned in his presence. After all, she was an adult. Now she knew why Carol had been outraged and offended about this plan to keep her within his reach. Both Elsa and Grete had seen the danger too, but Anna had been impulsive and naïve again.

Anna fully understood now just how difficult a decision it had been for Elsa to command Hans take Anna from the palace. To trust Hans with her baby sister. It wasn’t that Hans might turn on her that had worried them, it was that Anna would open her heart to him, and he’d weasel his way back in.

Of course, the signs had all been there right from the start, but Anna had chosen to ignore, to turn a blind eye, to just pretend and makes assumptions. It was easier on her heart. She had assumed—rather stupidly—that Hans didn’t think of her _that_ way. At all.

He had just proven her very wrong.

It had been very stupid indeed to assume anything about Hans.

Anna had to regroup, had to get it together. Had to re-establish her boundaries.

She took a deep breath, and flopped down onto the floor, spreading her arms out wide, staring up at the ceiling, trying to think. She had to figure this out. She couldn’t very well touch him now, even in the most innocent of intent, without her mind drifting back to that heated kiss.

The door to the cottage opened, startling Anna. Hans was back. His hair was damp from the stream, and his shirt hung unbuttoned and untucked. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the slip of v-shaped flesh exposed from his open collar that drew her interest, like a moth to a flame. At least he had thought to put a shirt on.

An awkward silence filled the room.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention. Anna turned her head towards the bed only because she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye right now. She was afraid of what she might see hidden in his gaze. She stared at an old pair of shoes, and a large hardcover book that was stashed underneath the bed frame.

“Anna,” he began, his voice small and feeble, “I would like to apologize for my earlier unbecoming behaviour. I intruded on your person in a most alarming manner. I was not quite myself when I came back to you, and I’m sorry. I should not have placed you in such a compromising position. It was very rude of me.” He gave a disappointed sigh. “I keep getting everything wrong.”

Anna was only half paying attention, trying to make out the words on the spine of the book under the bed. “Apology accepted.”

“Thank you for saving me…again. I am aware that it required more effort on your part this time, and I am grateful you did not abandon me. At least you seem to do things right.” His words were stiff and rehearsed, but probably the best she’d ever get from him. He’d most likely realized that he needed her to cooperate, needed her to be compliant, and that it simply would not do to have their fight looming in the air.

“You’re welcome,” she acknowledged absently, still distracted by the book. She slid her arm underneath the bed to retrieve the tome. Hans was still speaking to her, but Anna had stopped listening the moment she brushed the dust off the cover and silently read the title; recognizing it as the same book she had been reading at the palace the night they had to flee. A book on Southern Isles mythos and lore. She flipped it open to the table of contents, skimming down the list of magical creatures to find the chapter on trolls.

“—I think that it is now imperative that we find the trolls today,” Hans was saying, using that self-important tone he used when he felt he needed to be the one in control, paying no attention to Anna as she hurriedly flipped through the book. “So, whenever you are ready, we should start searching.”

“I know where to start!” Anna held up the book for Hans to see.

Hans didn’t share her enthusiasm. “I’ve read that book a thousand times at home. Unless there’s a map of the forest tucked into that book…we…” His voice trailed off as that very thing fell out of the book and onto the floor. Anna triumphantly held the map up to him. It was too much of a coincidence.

It meant only one thing: the cottage was ready to let them meet the trolls.


	19. Chapter 18

“You’re talking about it as if it is a sentient thing,” Hans explained as he walked beside her, reading the map. “It’s not the cottage itself, it’s the owner of the magic. For whatever reason, they are allowing us to find the trolls.”

As they traipsed around the forest following the map, they both were pretending that everything was back to normal between them, and that they had not shared a scorching kiss and embrace only a short while ago. They had kept to safe conversations at a safe distance apart. Every so often their shoulders would brush up against each other, and Hans would flinch, pulling away from her quickly.

Despite their best efforts to forget, that kiss remained between them. Anna could feel it like static in the air right before a thunderstorm. She couldn’t even look at him without wanting to shove her body back up against his and put her mouth back on him. He was being way too polite and far too stiff in his mannerisms, trying way too hard to be a gentleman, which only made it worse. It only made her want to crack his mask wide open and have him moan and pant all over her again.

“Do you suppose we passed some sort of test?” Anna asked, forcing herself to stop thinking about him like _that_ , and instead focusing her thoughts on all the fairy tales with quests she had read as a child. The hero almost always had to pass an important test of character or wit or something.

Hans pulled a face. “You probably did. I don’t think I was very much help at all.” He sounded disappointed. Hans had probably spent his childhood dreaming of being a hero. There was nothing more noticeable or important as a hero. Especially one who could save entire kingdoms.

And she knew that Hans desperately wanted to be important. She remembered how pleased and self assured he’d been in Arendelle when he’d told her he was the hero that was going to save Arendelle.

But he had it all wrong. Heroes did not do the things they did for recognition and praise. They did the things they did because it was the right thing to do. She thought she ought to say that to him, but it was Hans, and Hans was never going to be anything more than what he was. She understood him better now, flaws and all.

_They_ had reached an understanding after their last battle with the witch. Because while Anna now understood Hans a lot better, able to objectively see him for all that he was, she was positive that he could do the same with her. Anna was certain that had not been the witch’s intention. The latest attacks were supposed to drive them further apart, not closer together. Whether they cared to admit it or not, a bond between them had been forged. A bond Anna knew would have to be broken.

It was good they had been allowed to finally leave the cottage to meet the trolls, not just for the sake of the Southern Isles, but for Anna’s sake. She needed to sever her ties to Hans as quickly as possible. The sooner they met with the trolls and broke the curse, the sooner Anna could leave Hans and her mixed-up feelings behind.

That was for the best. She would never have to tell anyone what had transpired between them, especially Elsa. Guilt already pooled in Anna’s stomach over her decision not to tell Elsa. Anna couldn’t bear the look of disappointment she could already see in her sister’s eyes if she ever told Elsa how she had behaved around Hans. How she felt being around him.

Hans had been Anna’s sole companion this past week, it was only natural to have formed some sort of attachment. And soon it would come to an end. They’d find the trolls tonight. They would get the help they needed to break the curse, and return to the palace with the answer. They would part ways then. Everything between them left to become a distant memory.

Anna would go back home to Arendelle with Elsa, and Hans would most likely still end up a monk. Though she hoped once the curse was lifted that Vilhelm reconsidered that fate for his youngest brother. Surely, there would be some sort of boon granted to Hans for his help, after all, he could have been lying on a white, sandy beach in Blavenia instead of seeking out the trolls.

“Hans?” she asked. “Why did you really want to run away to Blavenia?”

He looked up from the map with a shrug. “It’s warm there, and I didn’t think we were needed. You convinced me otherwise.”

“Yes, I know what you said, but why did you say it? It’s just that…well, you wanted to be the hero in Arendelle so badly—”

“And look how that turned out. I’d think you’d have your answer right there.” He looked uncomfortable. “Listen…I’m…I’m not the heroic type. At one time, I thought that was what I was supposed to be, and it was what I was trying to be, but I was wrong. Blavenia killed two birds with one stone, it kept us safe and kept me away from becoming what I was always intended to be—a monk. Not a hero.”

“I don’t think I’m the heroic type either,” Anna admitted with a sigh. “Half the time I don’t even know what I’m doing. I just…rush straight on into things and hope for the best.”

Hans bit his lip, and awkwardly shifted his gaze back to the map.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been anything but a hero,” he answered quietly. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. I wish—” he looked up at her, meeting her eye. “I wish you could see that. It must be very dark indeed in her shadow, not to be able to see it.”

“I suppose it is,” she answered. She would never measure up to Elsa, and she knew that, but at least she knew someone who understood how it felt. “Not so dark a shadow as twelve though.”

He glanced away. “Thirteen, if you count my father.”

“Do we want to count him?”

Hans gave a small half smile, shaking his head. “No.”

Anna didn’t press it. “The glade should be up ahead,” she said, changing the topic to spare his feelings. She supposed Hans would speak more when he felt comfortable enough to do so.

Hans held the lantern up higher, trying to get a larger span of light. The trees seemed to grow wider apart in this part of the forest, allowing Sitron to move with ease. They walked past large, grey boulders that seemed to loom out at them from the dark. The smell of damp, rotting earth became more pungent to Anna’s nostrils the further in. It made the hair on her arms stand on end.

“There!” Hans pointed outwards. “The stone columns ahead.”

Anna saw them, and hesitated. A deep shiver ran down her spine. She had the inexplicable urge to turn around and go back— _run_ back, actually—but that was silly. Trolls would help.

But there was something so familiar about the smell…

And the dark…

Hans slowed down the closer they approached the glade. His steps much warier than before, as if he felt the same sense of unease she did nearing the glade.

This did not feel like the troll glade at home in Arendelle. It was neither warm nor inviting. It felt wrong and foreboding. Every nerve ending in her body was telling her to run. She felt an uncontrollable panic begin to well in the back of her throat.

_We need their help_ , Anna argued to herself. The trolls would help. She _knew_ trolls would help. She’d even convinced Hans that they would. They couldn’t back down now. They had to see this through. There were no other options.

Anna swallowed down her fear and doubt, stepping forward. Hans, slightly in front of her, held his arm out, keeping her back, and just a little bit behind him. The protective gesture was not lost on her. She noticed that his other hand was grasping the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it if need be.

“Does this look right to you?” he whispered. He held the lantern forward so Anna could see into the glade.

“No,” she whispered back, afraid her voice would draw attention.

“Anna…” His brows furrowed in concern. Everything in his body language said he wanted to run from this place just as badly as she did.

The glade was partitioned off from the rest of the forest. Large, intricately carved stone columns encircled the glade, towering up into the darkness, mingling with the vast overgrowth of the trees.

Inside the circle were many boulders, in principle reminding Anna of the Arendelle troll glade, but it was all wrong. The boulders weren’t smooth and round, but jagged and rough. None were covered in the soft, pleasant moss Anna was accustomed to. Instead, these boulders were slick with a wet, putrid sludge. Amongst the off-putting boulders were human things. Broken, man-made garbage littered the glade, left there to rot in age and neglect, as though it were a dump site and not a sacred magic place.

_Run._

“Are those… _mirrors_?” Hans squinted, moving the lantern to shine on a large pile of broken handheld mirrors within the glade. “Weird.”

_Run_.

“Hans…this place doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, we’re here now, so we might as well try to ask for help.” Hans decided, though his legs would not move past the threshold of the stone columns. “Just…stay behind me.”

There was a warning note to his voice, and Anna wanted to tell him they should leave. That she had been wrong. That they shouldn’t be here. But before Anna could make the sounds come out, Hans was stepping into the glade.

And the glade roared with life.

Anna couldn’t see beyond the light the lantern gave off, but she could see enough to know that these trolls were not like the Arendelle trolls at all. They were not portly and round with bright eyes and friendly smiles. These trolls were long and spindly with sharp yellow eyes and cruel grins.

Anna clutched Hans’s sleeve as he ventured further in. “I think we should go,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

A wicked voice cackled from the dark. “And so, the youngest of the thirteen finally arrives.”

Anna’s blood ran cold.

She shrank back in fear, huddling closer to Hans. She recognized that voice. Just as she recognized the smell and knew the darkness. It was horrifying to finally see the face of the voice that had terrorized her since the night of the coronation ball.

_One that should not be._

She hadn’t made it up. It hadn’t been her mind playing tricks on her. It hadn’t been some sick manifestation of shock. It had been real. That night on the balcony, in the hallway when Hans froze, in the secret passage at the palace, and even in her dreams. All this time that ancient malice stalking her had been the Southern Isles trolls.

And Anna had gone straight to them, taking Hans with her.

_Run!_

“Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles, and Princess Anna of Arendelle,” Hans introduced, giving a cautious, but courtly bow to the creature. “We seek the aid and wisdom of the trolls. The royal house of Westergaard is under a curse brought on by a powerful witch.”

“Nothing is given. It must be bought. The payment first, and then we will talk.”

“Payment?” Hans faltered, and he shot Anna a look.

Anna cursed silently. They hadn’t thought to bring anything to give to the trolls. In Arendelle, it was unheard of to pay trolls. They shared their knowledge freely to those who would need it. Anna stared helplessly at Hans, at a loss as to what they should do. Hans swallowed, turning his attention back to the troll.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t bring anything,” he apologized as politely as he could.

Laughter cackled around the glade, the sound making Hans jump with a start. More of the hideous voices joined in. Anna couldn’t be sure just how many trolls were in the glade, but she knew they were surrounded.

“The little prince, he jests—”

“Look how he trembles—”

“—brought us a far rarer gift than any of his kin ever did.”

“A payment befitting a true king.”

The cold voices swirled around Anna, tinkling like ice and riding the wind, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. She shivered, wanting nothing more than to grab Hans by the hand and flee.

“I’m sorry,” Hans said again in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean. I really didn’t bring anything—”

“The girl!” the first voice hissed, clearly done playing games. “Give us the girl!”

“Yes,” another echoed. “Give us the girl, and we will break you of your curse.”

“We will make you King of the Southern Isles, for only a king could bring us such a gift.”

“King?” Hans asked, his voice piqued with interest.

“So clever of the littlest to bring us her—”

“—I can taste the old magic on her.”

“—smell it in the air that surrounds her—”

“Magics from a glade far away—”

“—Not a single one of his brothers could match such a gift.”

Hans stood a little straighter, a little prouder. Anna gripped his arm in fear. He could not possibly be considering leaving her with these…these _creatures_.

He glanced back at Anna clutching his sleeve. “I’m afraid she is not mine to give.”

And Anna sighed in relief, for a moment she had actually thought—

“If she is not yours to give, then she is not yours to protect either.”

Hans tilted his head as though he was contemplating the words, and Anna was filled with a renewed sense of dread. She let go of Hans’s sleeve slowly.

“You want to be free of your curse? Yes?”

“—Give us the girl, and we can fix it all, youngest of thirteen.”

“Yes, yes, so wise and clever to bring the girl touched by the far away magics.”

“—The Southern Isles is lost without such a leader.”

“So brave and heroic to seek out the trolls.”

“Let the witch have her plaything princes, and we will give the Southern Isles the king they deserve. The _hero_ they deserve.”

“Just give us the girl—”

“—She is nothing to you, yes?”

“She is the one that should not be.”

Hans stiffened at those last words, his hand tightening around his sword. He looked back at Anna again, eyeing her with suspicion. “You’ve said that to her before,” he said carefully. “What does it mean?”

“She should not be with you.”

“She will ruin everything for you.”

“—take away your glory. Your right—”

“—she is only a small price to pay—”

Hans stepped away from Anna, no longer keeping her safely behind him. He turned to her, and Anna felt sick. The apologetic look on his face said it all.

“This is what I will regret, Anna.” He removed his hand from his sword and stood passive. Anna stared at him in horror. He was not going to stand in the way of the trolls when they came to take her, and she was more than certain that they would. He swallowed as though he might be sick himself. He searched her face with his eyes intently, his voice cracking when he spoke, “But _trust me_ , we both know the curse must be broken at whatever cost.”

Anna had meant to reply, had meant to defy him, had meant to say something a hero would say, but she was at a loss for words. She stood there, staring at him in absolute shock. The look on his face was not one of betrayal, and yet, after everything they had been through together, Hans had betrayed her. Again.

It didn’t feel real.

Her hand moved on its own, flat and open palmed, the force of a slap meant to resonate across the flesh of his cheek in a sting that he’d remember. Only he froze before her eyes, a solid form within seconds as though he was carved from ice. Her palm connected with the cold, unyielding ice, and she broke into a sob.

Hans had abandoned her. Tempted by the trolls only to freeze solid before the deal struck. She was alone in the glade, surrounded by these awful beings. She couldn’t even draw his sword to use as protection.

She staggered backwards in devastation. This was all her fault. She was the one who had suggested they find the trolls. She was the one who convinced Hans to take her here, even though he’d argued with her not to.

“Failed his test, poor little prince,” a gravelly voice chortled from the dark.

“Stupid little boy—” another hissed.

“—always needing her protection.”

“She must be so upset!” One laughed with glee.

“—so much for potential,” another mocked.

“You tricked him!” Anna shouted fiercely at the swirling, tittering voices.

There was nothing to be done for Hans now. Anna’s only hope was to try and save herself. Run before one of these hideous trolls caught her. Bile rose in her throat at the very thought of one of those slick, gnarled hands touching her. She backed away from the frozen form of Hans, and bolted for the entrance way.

Something snatched her ankle, tripping her and she shrieked as she hit the ground face first. Anna screamed for all she was worth as a cold, bony grip dragged her back to the circle of the glade. She kicked frantically with her boot, her hands clawing through the moist dirt, trying desperately to escape. Her boot heel finally connected with her captor, but had little effect on the stone skin of the troll. To have any chance of escape she needed to go for the eyes. She needed a weapon, a stick or something sharp—

The dagger. Hans had given her his dagger.

Taking a deep breath, she let go of the ground with one hand, her body slipping back towards the troll. Bracing herself with only one hand clawed in the ground, she fished the dagger out of her bodice. Anna cursed furiously when she couldn’t pull the blade from it’s sheath with one hand.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

It was now or never. She only had one shot at this. With one final, calming breath, she let go of the ground with her other hand, no longer fighting against the troll. She flew backwards towards the troll with terrifying force once she let go. Her hands were already unsheathing the dagger. With the blade firmly in her hand, she dove for the troll’s glowing, yellow eye, plunging the weapon as deeply as she could into the soft, yielding spot.

The thing shrieked in agony, recoiling away from her and releasing her from its grasp.

Anna scrambled up from the dirt, dagger pointing out and ran in the opposite direction.

An urgent whinny from beyond the stone pillars caught Anna’s attention. “Sitron!” she cried in relief, spotting the horse standing just outside the glade. If she could make it to the horse, she still stood a chance. Her body pumped with adrenaline as she ran for her life towards the waiting horse, dodging the yellow eyes and shadowy forms of the trolls along the way. She could hear the shrieks and cries of the trolls behind her, the anger, the malice, the urgency.

With one final push, and lungs burning, she reached Sitron, hoisting herself onto the horse’s back with the momentum of her run. She grabbed his reins ready to flee—and then as quickly as everything had started, it had stopped.

The trolls, however many there had been, howled in anger and then turned silent. Like a candle flame snuffed out. Anna turned her head back to the glade. The ice sculpture that was Hans sparkled when the first rays of the morning sun peaked through the forest.

Daylight.

Anna had been saved by the sunrise. The trolls had been forced to sleep.

Trembling, she fell against Sitron and hugged his neck tight, trying her best not to cry. “Let’s go, Sitron.”

The horse huffed sadly, and Anna pulled the reins, turning Sitron away from his master who was left standing, frozen solid, in the troll glade.

Anna rode in silence, to what she hoped was back to the cottage. Hans had been the one holding onto the map. Sitron, turned to look back in the direction of Hans much more frequently than Anna would have liked.

“It’s not like I _wanted_ to leave him,” Anna found herself explaining after some time to the sullen horse. “It’s just that’s what he was going to do to me.” She sighed, fighting back the tears of the truth. Hans was going to give her to the trolls in exchange for his freedom and the Southern Isles crown.

Sitron gave a snort in reply.

Anna grimaced. “Well, of course we feel bad about it. We’re good people—erm, well, you’re a good horse, and I’m a good person.” She thought back to that haunting, apologetic look on Han’s face. He hadn’t wanted to do it. He’d told her he’d regret it—and Hans never regretted anything he did. Her heart hurt, and she sniffed back more tears.

Sitron snorted again, blowing an indignant huff of air through his nose.

“You can’t be serious,” Anna argued, not sure whether she was talking to the horse or to her own subconscious. “There is no way I’m going back there for him. He got what he deserved and I’m not even sure I can bring him back from that. You saw him!” To prove her point, Anna brought Sitron from a canter to a trot, weaving him though the trees, further and further away from the glade.

She’d rather flee like a coward and lick her wounds than fully acknowledge what had happened in the glade. It would be absolute madness to venture back there. She steeled her gaze on the path ahead. Nothing could ever make her go back to that place again.

_‘This is what I will regret, Anna.’_

Anna groaned in frustration. Except Hans regretted giving her up to the trolls. It meant that if he could go back and do things differently—he would. He hadn’t just said, ‘Sorry, Anna’, apologizing for an action he’d do over and over the same way.

And what did that make Anna? Would she regret leaving him behind without trying to bring him back? Or would she just be sorry about it?

Hans was still in the glade, likely the witch’s puppet by now, or very soon. He had to be vulnerable even though he had frozen very differently this time. This time, he had looked immaculate and crisp, like one of Elsa’s ice sculptures that she was so fond of creating in the courtyard back home.

Anna couldn’t help but think it was a very befitting end for Hans. Poetic justice. After all, he’d turned on her of his own accord. Willing to give her up at the mere suggestion of getting his heart’s desire.

Would she give him up so easily?

“He deserved it,” she muttered under her breath, already turning Sitron around and heading back to the troll glade. “But the rest of the Southern Isles doesn’t.”

Sitron neighed pleasantly, and Anna rolled her eyes. “I’m not going back to get him because _I_ want him back. I don’t miss him at all. I’m going because it’s the right thing to do.”

The horse trotted back to the direction of the glade just as unconvinced in Anna’s motives as she was.


	20. Chapter 19

Sitron would not venture past the ancient, stone pillars that marked the entrance to the troll glade. Anna didn’t blame him. Frankly, she did not want to be back here at all, and was surprised that she had returned for Hans in the first place. It’s not like he deserved it. She didn’t even want to look at him, let alone touch him. It was safe to say she was absolutely livid with him, but that wasn’t the whole of it either. Her chest ached, and a painful lump rose in her throat. She was also furious with herself for being so stupid.

And yet, after everything was said and done, here she was, inexplicably back to Hans again. She hadn’t even walked away from him for more than half a day before she had turned back to get him.

A glutton for punishment.

A fool for love.

How had talking to a horse brought her back here? She sighed. She was here now, so she might as well try and bring Hans back, not that she really wanted to. She wasn’t even sure if she’d care if she found him gone, having awoken as the witch’s puppet and joining his brothers.

With an aggravated groan, she stepped into the glade. Even with the sun shining warm rays of light into the glade, it still felt like an awful place. It looked less terrifying, but the atmosphere remained the same.

_Just get Hans and get out of here_ , she told herself sternly.

She tried not to look at the patch of disturbed earth where she had fought for her life last night. Recognizing the long thin lines where she had clawed the ground, she turned away abruptly, forcing her thoughts to go in another direction. She didn’t need another reminder of how much she did not want to be back here.

A sudden shiver ran up her spine. Anna had the distinct feeling that she was being watched. She knew no one was awake here, the trolls had turned to stone at the first light of day and would not awaken until sunset. That was a few hours from now. Still, she stepped lightly and with caution as she inched further into the troll’s domain.

Hans was still there, frozen stiff. A macabre ice sculpture posed in the troll glade amongst the weird collection of rocks, rubble, and broken man-made garbage.

_How fitting_ , she scowled, finding courage in her anger and marching up to his frozen form. The place actually suited Hans’s personality. _And it smells of rot and decay, too._

“You’ve really done it this time,” she muttered aloud to Hans as she stood before him. “I _was_ going to leave you here, you know.”

“And yet here you are, back so soon.”

Anna screeched in terror at the sound of someone answering back. She spun around and searched the glade for the voice. Every instinct told her she should be running, fleeing for her life.

“Good heavens, you’re jumpier than I thought you’d be.” The voice paused. “Though I guess I can’t really blame you. You’ve had a terrible night.”

Anna found the owner of the voice perched calmly on a large, non-slimy rock. She was an elderly woman with gaunt features; long, greyed red hair, and slate grey eyes. She was dressed in a moss green, linen frock adorned with bits of bark and wildflowers.

And she had not been there moments ago when Anna had looked.

The woman nodded towards Hans. “Even after all this time, I’d still recognize that one.” She chuckled. “Sweet, little Hans.”

“Not so sweet anymore,” Anna replied bitterly, not really sure why she was answering this strange woman when she should be running.

The woman sighed heavily. Sadness washed over her features. “No, I suppose not. Such a waste. I really thought—well, _hoped_ he’d turn out differently. He has so much potential.”

Anna cocked her head and stared at the woman. It was obvious she knew Hans, but why was she here? Why wasn’t she freaking out at seeing him frozen?

“Hang on,” Anna said slowly, fitting the pieces together. “You’re the woman who saved him when he got lost here as a boy, aren’t you?”

“He was never lost here. Left on purpose, more like.”

“What?”

“He remembers it differently, of course. It was never a hunting party, that’s only what they told him. They tried to offer him up to the trolls despite being a boy. Used to be you’d bring a girl to the forest for an offering rite. If after five days of waiting the child didn’t emerge, it meant the trolls had accepted the offering. I’m sure you can see well enough why I intervened. I couldn’t let the trolls near him, otherwise they’d have killed him, knowing what he was.”

“What is he?”

The woman smiled. “A chance.” She didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, as though her answer should have been obvious to Anna.

Anna bit her lip. “I, um…I don’t mean to sound rude, but who are you? Hans never mentioned your name. I don’t think he even knows it.”

“Oh, I’ve not had a name in a very long time,” the woman answered thoughtfully. “But I was once called Liesel Agneta Westergaard, Princess of the Southern Isles. I suppose you could call me ‘Liesel’ if you need to.”

“You’re a relation of Hans’s then?” Anna asked slowly. She was confused. Why was there some random old lady princess wandering around the eastern wood?”

“What generation of Westergaard holds the title of king these days?”

“Uh…” Anna frowned, thrown off. “I don’t know. Hans’s eldest brother, Vilhelm, was recently crowned king.”

Liesel raised her eyebrows. “Eighth already? Well, that certainly explains a lot. I should have known. I’m afraid I haven’t been quite fully awake for sometime. Slumbering in and out, you see.”

“I’m sorry,” Anna pressed, “but I’m not quite following—”

“Ah, yes, you were inquiring about relations. Let’s see…I would be his…great, great, great, great, great aunt. On his father’s side, of course.”

Anna stared at the woman, flabbergasted. “But you can’t be!”

“Oh? And why not?”

“Because you’d be dead if you were that old!” Anna blurted out.

Liesel grinned at her with a soft twinkle in her eye. “Age is nothing really to a Troll Wife. Of course, no one lives for eternity, but my relationship to the trolls has slowed down my aging. If I were to leave the forest, I’m sure I’d fade to dust in a matter of minutes.”

Anna’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “ _Troll Wife_? You’re actually a Troll Wife?”

“Yes,” Liesel answered, bemused. “But back in my day, young princesses went willingly. I wanted to learn magics with the trolls. It was an honour, and the title bore respect.” She glowered. “None of this ‘babies and young girls from each Westergaard generation as payment and appeasement’ business.”

Anna grew excited. “Then you know of the curse!”

“Yes, I know all about that. Awful business, started by one of my successors, I’m afraid.”

“Please,” Anna implored. “You must tell me how to break the curse and save the current thirteen Westergaards.”

Liesel furrowed her brows. “Oh, sweetie, I’m afraid _you_ can’t save all of them.”

Anna’s excitement fell. “Why not?”

Liesel rose slowly from her rock, and walked over to Hans, tapping his frozen form thoughtfully. “If you can’t save this one, I’m sorry to say, you will not be any help at all.”

Anna wrinkled her nose, groaning. Not Hans. Anything but Hans. “Why does everything always come back to _him_?”

Liesel laughed again. “You, Princess Anna, are an absolute delight. I don’t think I have had this much pleasure in someone’s company in ages.” She reached up and patted Hans’s frozen cheek, smiling fondly at him. “I’d think it’d be obvious. You are, after all, _the one who should not be_.”

“That’s all any of you magical beings keep saying to me, but I don’t know what it means! The trolls said—”

“The trolls lied. Your existence will not bring Hans to ruin. I daresay, he’s quite good at doing that all on his own. _You_ are his best chance at breaking him from the curse.”

“But I’ve tried to break his curse!” Anna protested. “Every day I’ve been trying. Whatever magic I have isn’t strong enough to truly break him of it. All I can do is keep it at bay!”

“Magic?” Liesel puzzled. “Who on earth said anything about you having magic?”

Anna paused in alarm. “Well, Hans said I did…and then Queen Grete said it must be residual from when my heart was frozen, see…my sister, well, she accidentally froze my heart just over a year ago and—”

“We know all about Queen Elsa. Such a beautiful gift to be born with. Rare indeed. Even rarer to have such a fine sister to guide her through the storm. Again, it’s quite easy to see how you became the one that should not be.”

“You still haven’t told me what that means,” Anna replied exasperated. “And if I’m not magic why am I the only one other than the witch able to hear the trolls? I thought I was going crazy! They’ve been tormenting me with those words since the ball.”

“Oh, anyone touched by troll magic can hear them,” Liesel answered mildly. “That’s not magic, that’s just a connection, an awareness. You’ve had the ability to hear them since you were a child.”

“I’ve never heard the Arendelle trolls.”

“A difference in practice. Arendelle trolls are predominantly vocally verbal. Southern Isles trolls are predominantly psychically verbal, and I’m sorry to say, were hounding you on purpose for sport. It’s been so long since someone new could hear them.” Liesel clapped her hands together sharply. “But, we are getting off topic; tell me, dear, what did you think those words meant?”

“I thought it meant that I shouldn’t have survived a frozen heart, that I shouldn’t be here because I should have died, but I didn’t! I came back, I broke my sister’s magic with an act of true love, and somehow got…I dunno…magic or something as a result.” She bit her lip. “But I can’t do anything right, everything I’ve done here so far has been all wrong. I’ve just made things worse! I was wrong about the trolls helping us, and now you’re saying I’m wrong about having some kind of magic!”

“My, you certainly start to ramble when you get upset.”

Anna’s face flushed. “I’m sorry, I just—” Tears started welling in her eyes. “I’ve come all this way for help…and I was so sure…and…and well, look at him!” She gestured wildly at Hans. “He betrayed me! Again! And I _knew_ it. I knew he would do it to me again if he got the chance, and I gave him that chance anyway because I—!” Anna broke off with a sob.

It hurt more than Anna imagined to admit it out loud. Actually saying Hans betrayed her instead of just thinking it, brought it home. Made it real. She couldn’t pretend it was anything else than what it was.

Defeated, Anna hung her head, and let the tears fall, succumbing finally to uncontrollable sobbing. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore! I don’t know why I thought I could even help in the first place!”

Thin, warm arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a hug. Anna collapsed against this strange woman and sobbed her heart out. Liesel soothed her gently, smoothing her hair, and shushing her softly while holding her tight. And for the second time since arriving on the Southern Isles, Anna cried. Only this time, she cried about everything, and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.

And when she was finished crying, Liesel pulled away and softly cupped Anna’s face with her palms while Anna sniffed the last bit of her sorrows away.

“There now,” she said to Anna. “That feels better, doesn’t it?”

Anna nodded dolefully. She felt like a child, and she felt foolish breaking down in front of a stranger, but she did feel a little better.

“I assure you, Princess Anna that you have done something right. If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t still be here.”

Anna stared at Hans. It didn’t feel like a great accomplishment. Hans’s frozen form only served as a reminder as to how much she had royally screwed up. It didn’t matter that Hans wasn’t with the witch, that he hadn’t joined his brothers yet. In the end, no matter what Anna had done for him, he’d thrown it all away and betrayed her the moment he chose to leave her to the trolls.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“You’ve journeyed all this way to seek out the trolls for help—a very good idea, I might add— but I’m sorry that they cannot help you now. Sadly, they are no longer what they were, so low have they fallen. They have forgotten who they are, and their old ways. They seek nothing but power, corrupted by greed now.” Liesel sighed deeply, and Anna could see multiple lifetimes etched in those sad eyes. “But not all is lost. You came back for him, after all, and that is what matters the most right now.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Anna admitted quietly.

“But you came all the same.”

“I just—” Anna heaved a sigh. “I don’t know. Even after what he did to me, I can’t just leave him here like this.” She looked over at Hans, and felt that same stabbing sensation in her heart. “There’s something wrong with me. It’s like no matter how many times he hurts me, I can’t let him go.”

“Does it help to know he doesn’t know any better? That he’s doing his best with what he knows?”

Anna shrugged, hugging her arms. “Not really, no. _I_ know what he is, and it’s me that’s the problem. _I_ know better, but I’m the one that can’t stay away. I can’t call it quits.”

“And why is that?”

“Does it matter?” Anna bit back tersely. She didn’t like the prodding, even if it was gentle. She wasn’t ready to admit out loud to anyone how she really felt about Hans. She could barely think of loving him without feelings of guilt and shame overshadowing all of it. Truthfully, there should be no possible way she could love him after everything he had done.

Liesel went to sit back down on her rock. “Everything surrounding him matters. He’s the fault in the curse. The weak link. The best chance there is at undoing it. I’ve been waiting a very long time for that potential. Even longer for a catalyst.”

Anna lifted her head. “Do you know how to save him? How to break the curse and restore the kingdom?”

“That’s a lot of different things, Princess. It’s not as simple as doing just one thing to fix it all. There are many things at play here. All connected, but not all the same.”

“Okay.” Anna exhaled. “How do I save him?”

“Who?”

Anna pulled a face. Trolls, always so evasive. It appeared Troll Wives were the same.

“Hans, of course.”

“And why do you want to save him?”

“What do you mean why? You just said everything surrounding him matters! You literally just told me that if I couldn’t save Hans, I was of no use at all!”

“I mean, why do _you_ , Princess Anna of Arendelle want to save _him_?”

“I…” Anna paused, thinking, “…my reasons are my own. But that’s not really what’s important, is it? It’s that I _want_ to.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to?” Liesel asked.

Anna shook her head. “No, I want to. It’s my choice.”

Liesel considered Anna’s words carefully before nodding. “Best make yourself comfortable, young princess. I think you and I have much to talk about.”

Startled by the words, she looked up at the woman. “You’ll help me?”

Liesel nodded again. “I knew I liked you from the start. Plucky, tenacious little thing that you are, always following your heart.” She chortled to herself. “I can see it, plain as day. What it is about you.”

_That makes him want to stay._

Anna frowned, wondering if she had actually heard that last part with her ears, or if she had just made it up in her head. She took a seat on a smaller, slime-free rock, facing the Troll Wife. She politely waited for Liesel to begin before she remembered that Hans was still frozen.

“Wait!” she cried, standing. “I’ve forgotten about trying to thaw Hans.”

Liesel waved her hand for Anna to sit back down. “He’ll keep.”

“But the witch could call him—”

“—And he wouldn’t answer.” She stared purposefully at Anna. “Why do you think he’s still here, frozen stiff and not moving about as a puppet?”

Anna stopped short. “I—I don’t know.”

Now that she thought more about it, it was odd that Hans was frozen solid as though he’d been carved from ice instead of looking like a frost covered, frozen corpse like his brothers. But Hans’s symptoms had been changing a lot in the past few days. Anna had just assumed that the witch was trying to strengthen her hold on him while Hans fought her for control, but maybe Anna had been wrong. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.

“He failed his test,” Liesel said with a disappointed grunt. “He really wasn’t trying to, but he got it wrong anyway. He has learned so much, but not quite enough. Now he’s got no choice but to wait. It’s out of his hands.”

“What test?” Anna asked stupidly. The trolls had said something about that too. She’d forgotten how trolls tended to speak in weird riddles and ask strange questions, and the Troll Wife appeared to be very much of the same mind as the Arendelle trolls. Answering in vague bits of information, and with riddles and puzzles that made perfect sense once one figured it all out.

Liesel cackled, amused. “You’ll know when you know. He’s behaved badly again, but this time he _knows_ he has, can see his mistakes. Very different from the times before.”

It dawned on Anna. “He’s waiting for me!”

“Which is why he’ll keep,” the Troll Wife answered blandly. Satisfied with Anna’s answer, Liesel motioned for her to sit again. “Not even your witch, as you call her, has the power to move him from that spot. While she still has a hold on him, it’s not her magic that holds him now.”

“It’s the trolls?” Anna asked, though all she received was a vague look from the Troll Wife. Assured that Hans was in no danger from the witch, Anna took her seat again, and gave the Troll Wife her full attention.

“All terrible curses start with discontent, just as how all those who fall victim to a curse are their own best chance for breaking it,” Liesel began.

Anna nodded.

“But some,” she continued, “simply don’t know how. They don’t have the knowledge or resources. It’s of no fault of their own, or any mark on their intelligence; it’s that they just don’t know any better or any differently. This is the case of the Westergaard line. They have been cursed for a very long time. Hearts frozen and unlovable for generations, though they don’t even know it, not until now. Now that the cycle has been upset.

You must understand, that the Westergaards weren’t always as they are now. They were just and noble, free with their wealth, and they were, above all else, kind. Kindness, was once what a Westergaard was known for. Not a single ruler in those days could match the compassion of a Westergaard.

Troll Wives stemmed from this trait of compassion. Princesses of an age would decide to pursue the knowledge of the trolls, dedicating their lives to learning the magics and ways of the trolls and the lands. The trolls would welcome these princesses openly, though once a princess took a vow to learn all they could from the trolls they were to stay in the eastern woods. For a human life is not long enough to learn all a troll can teach. The eastern woods sustained us, and being around the trolls prolonged our lives. The woods would become our homes and the trolls our family. Hence the name, ‘Troll Wife’.

Of course, your family would visit, or villagers and dignitaries—this was the connection. Us Troll Wives would visit with our families and give counsel during the day while the trolls slept. It was a serious commitment for a young woman to make, and those who decided to become Troll Wives had to be absolutely sure of their decision. There was no room for doubt. This was an arrangement of delicate balance, a devotion to something greater than one’s self. There was no room for desires that did not coincide with the troll wife way of life.

My successor, broke her vows to the trolls when she fell in love with a man.

And that, was the beginning of the curse you see today.

It’s hard to say if she had ever truly wanted to be a Troll Wife to begin with or as the only daughter of her line was pushed into it. But that is neither here nor there at this point. What was done is done, and we cannot change the past, only the future.

He was a travelling bard, the young man who first caught her eye, seeking advice on some trivial thing I cannot even remember, but she took to him right away, as did he to her. It was obvious that they were in love, just as it was obvious that she could never leave the glade without breaking her vows and bond.

But so in love with him she was that she sought out a way to leave the eastern woods and the way of the troll wife behind. The price of such magic would be inconceivable to most, but sometimes the heart wants what it wants no matter the cost.

She was willing to pay that price, and in doing so, cursed the Westergaard line.”

Anna inhaled sharply, remembering what Hans had told her about trolls taking girls, and the witch wanting Grete’s baby. “She stole a baby girl as a replacement for herself.”

Liesel nodded grimly. “And once an idea is planted, it takes root and spreads. If one can pull off such a thing, then why not another girl and another? It got worse as time went on, for girls were no longer becoming Troll Wives of their own free will. It was a fate forced upon them, so why shouldn’t it stand to reason that more and more wanted out?

The Westergaard house, however, retaliated. They fought, protecting their girls, but by then it was already too late. The trolls themselves were being corrupted; changed by the circumstances in which girls were brought to the glade, and that’s when secret promises and bargains replaced the stealing of girls and babies. Power and wealth at any cost, trickling down through generation after generation until the old ways were lost, and completely forgotten to some.”

“So this witch isn’t really a witch at all, is she?” Anna asked.

“Not really, no. Just another troll wife. Hans’s father’s sister—so his aunt, actually. Poor thing was never given a Christian name before she was handed over,” Liesel answered mildly. “The Westergaard royals have been giving baby girls to the trolls for generations from all branches, right up until the current generation. You see, the last born in every branch has _always_ been a girl, which is where things have now drastically changed.”

“Hans was the last Westergaard born of the former King and Queen. He was supposed to have been the replacement to this Troll Wife,” Anna said. “Had he been born a girl.”

“Yes, however, Hans’s birth was complicated. The former queen was never able to bear anymore children after him. You can imagine how upsetting this was to everyone involved, and unfortunately Hans took the brunt of it. You see, the Troll Wife gave irresistible things in exchange for a baby girl to give to the trolls. She’s very upset about not getting that promised girl. There are no substitutes either. Not a single girl has been born to a Westergaard since her. Her hopes ride on Vilhelm’s child now. She cannot exist in her current state outside of the glade without gleaning power from somewhere. She may look your age, but she is much older.”

“That’s why she needs all thirteen of her nephews. She’s sustaining herself on them.”

“Yes, but the trolls demand another wife to take her place, and she doesn’t have one to give. Nor can she keep up her magic without control of all thirteen hearts, for that was the deal she made.”

“And if she gets all thirteen hearts?” Anna asked.

“Who knows what she’ll do, but you can be certain it won’t be good, especially if the newest queen gives birth to a baby girl and she takes the child. She’s taken more power than she can control on her own. More power than what is meant to be hers.”

“But Hans isn’t affected by the curse the same way his brothers are, he’s still cursed, but it’s different, weaker. I can keep it at bay, even if I can’t break it.”

“Hans didn’t exist when the bargain was made. Wasn’t even a twinkle in his parents’ eyes. The quality of his heart had not been properly determined as payment because it didn’t exist. His brothers’ hearts had already been weighed and measured, properly accounted for, properly cursed to be cold and unloving.” The Troll Wife paused, making sure Anna understood. “That’s where she went wrong with her bargain. That’s where the magic striving to right the wrongs found its way in. Hans wasn’t born to curse his family further like they thought.”

Anna’s eyes lit up. “He was born to break the curse!”

“Perhaps,” the Troll Wife answered. “After failing his test in the glade, he’s not near as ready as I’d hoped he’d be, but he still has the best chance to save himself. What he does with that remains to be seen.”

“But there must be some way to stop his aunt, and restore the trolls back to the way they were!”

“Two different problems, Princess,” the Troll Wife reminded. “Defeating the Troll Wife will not restore the trolls to their true selves, just as restoring the trolls will not defeat the Troll Wife and her magic.”

“So, what exactly will saving Hans do?” Anna asked.

Liesel shrugged. “At the very least, saving Hans gives your sister a fighting chance against the Troll Wife. Your sister is the one powerful enough to go up against such magic. I’m afraid I can’t go up against your witch without abandoning my vows, and I’m sure you can see the gravity of the situation if I do. I am the last of the Troll Wives, the last uncorrupted carrier of troll knowledge on the Southern Isles, that is, until the trolls are restored.”

“But even if Elsa does defeat her, it still doesn’t solve the problem with the trolls. What’s to stop them from stealing young girls from everywhere if left unchecked?”

“Only a Westergaard born of love brought to the glade when the sun is at its highest can restore the trolls.”

“But the Westergaards all hate each other!” Anna cried. “Why does it always have to be true love that breaks curses?”

“Because it’s the most powerful force on earth.”

“I figured you’d say that,” Anna grumbled. “So how do I find this Westergaard?”

“ _You_ don’t need to find them. Searching is not your part to play in it.”

“All right, I get it,” Anna answered, getting frustrated at how useless she was. “What is it _I_ need to do then?”

“You are the one who can save Hans.”

“I don’t know why,” Anna answered, resigned to running in circles and not getting a full answer from the Troll Wife. “I’m nothing special. I don’t have magic. I don’t do anything to stop him from freezing. It just happens when I touch him.”

Liesel raised her eyebrows and gave Anna a pointed look. “And why is it that your touch brings him back? Why is it, that it’s only Hans? You didn’t have the same results touching Lennart.”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Hans does.” Liesel chuckled. “That boy doesn’t know what to do with you—” A knowing glint flashed in her eye. “—Well, he _does_ , and _that_ scares him. The same as it scares you.”

Anna felt herself blush, remembering the kiss she’d shared with Hans. The Troll Wife silently watched her, reading her expression. Anna hastily changed direction. “It’s _not_ true love. I’d know if it was true love, and besides, Hans would be free now if it was.”

“You’re right, it isn’t true love…but that doesn’t mean it can’t be.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense! It either is or it isn’t!” Anna cried, throwing her arms up.

Liesel reached out and ruffled Anna’s hair playfully. “Silly girl! You’re thinking about it too hard.”

“Well, I kinda have a lot riding on all this. Can’t you give me something more? The only clue I have is I’m the ‘ _one that should not be_ ’.”

“And you’ve still not figured out what that means yet?”

Anna shook her head. She had an inkling, but she wouldn’t dare entertain the idea. Admitting that her feelings for Hans might actually be the key terrified her beyond reason.

“Have you ever thought to ask Hans about it?” Liesel asked.

“I—” Anna stopped, thrown off by the question. “No, why would I?”

Liesel gave a small shrug that could have meant anything and leaned back on her rock. “Would you like a hint?”

“God, yes!” Anna answered.

“You keep asking—keep wondering—why it always leads back to Hans for you,” Liesel began. “It always leads back to Hans because it _is_ Hans. He’s bound to something in your possession. Something you shouldn’t be able to have and it’s becoming clearer to him. You need only ask him.”

“Wait, what?” That had not been what she had expected Liesel to say.

“It’s almost sunset, young princess, I fear our time is up,” Liesel warned. “You will need to get your prince and leave soon, unless you want to contend with the trolls again. I doubt they’d let you get away a second time. You remind them too much of what they’ve lost and they covet that.”

“I still have so many questions!” Anna cried in alarm.

“And I’m confident you have the answers. It’s time for him to come back, Anna. He’s waited long enough, any longer and doubt starts to creep in. Don’t lose the ground you’ve gained.” Liesel took her gently by the hand and led her to Hans. “You may not be able to meet in the middle just yet, so find where you do meet.”

Anna stared up at Hans’s frozen, lifeless form, and sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even doing this.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to contend with Hans right now. She was still upset with him, still hurt, and still angry. But she knew better than to shirk advice given to her, especially advice she had gone through a lot of trouble to seek out. The only way Anna could be of any help, was to help Hans. It meant she had to put her feelings aside for the time being.

Sighing, she reached up and touched Hans’s cheek.

Nothing happened.

Confused, Anna tried again.

Nothing.

She placed both palms of her hands atop his cheeks, splaying her fingers across his face, like she had done countless times in the past.

Nothing.

Anna made a face. The last time her touch had failed, she’d had to go to the source—his heart. But with him frozen as solid as a sculpture, there was no way to remove any of his clothing. She laid her palm over his heart.

Nothing.

Concerned, she turned towards Liesel. “How do I—”

Anna looked around wildly. The glade was empty. The Troll Wife was gone.

_Of course. Of course, the Troll Wife would be gone._

How typically troll to just vanish when Anna needed help the most. That was trolls though, or the troll way. Riddles and puzzles.

“ _Otherwise you wouldn’t learn anything yourself._ ” Liesel’s voice answered back in the wind. “ _Good luck, Princess Anna.”_

Anna had enough common sense to be thankful for what information the Troll Wife had provided, even if Anna hadn’t figured it all out or understood it all.

“Thank you for everything,” Anna called out to the wind.

The sky was getting darker by the minute; a clear indication her time was running out. She did not want to be anywhere near the troll glade when the sun set, but she needed to get Hans.

She turned to stare at him. It always came back to Hans. Hans was the key. Anna sighed in displeasure. Whether she liked it or not, she would have to thaw him. She was tied to this man now until she figured out what it was Liesel meant. Or at the very least, admitted to herself what she knew it meant—which was a much harder thing to do than she ever imagined.

“Come on,” she said to Hans’s lifeless form, annoyed. She grabbed his arm. “We have to go.”

Nothing.

“Please, Hans,” she begged. She figured he’d like that, her begging him to be agreeable. “We can’t be here when the trolls wake up.”

Sitron snorted by the pillars, stamping his foot. It startled Anna.

“I’m trying!” she snapped at the horse, peevishly. She jabbed a finger at Hans. “He’s the one not cooperating!”

The horse gave a derisive blow in response.

Anna rubbed her temples. She had no idea how to thaw Hans. He’d never been frozen solid when she had thawed him before. She bit her lip in thought.

“Come on, Anna,” she mumbled to herself in frustration. ‘You’ve got this. Just think!”

It wasn’t true love, Anna was already sure of that. And it wasn’t that Anna was special with magic at all. It was Hans who had thought she had magic. She was special to him specifically. Anna didn’t bring Hans back with her touch so much as her touch called to him, and he’d answer. Always returning to her. Never far from her sight or reach, always there. Always physically there as if he was drawn to her. Choosing her over and over again.

_Always physical_.

What he never said with words, she always gleaned from his looks or his touch.

She thought back to their kiss in the cottage. Would he have kissed her if she hadn’t slid her hand beneath the waistband of his trousers?

_No_.

He had waited for her to make the first move—or at least what he thought was an advance. He couldn’t get back to her fast enough once he’d thought she wanted him physically.

Anna swore angrily when the answer of how to unfreeze him this time became clear. _Of course, it would be that_. It was so obvious. It was also the least desirable thing she wanted to do with him right now. But it was the one thing that would make him come back to her after what he’d done. The one thing she was certain he wouldn’t be able to resist.

This was her test. She was sure of it.

And she didn’t take it lightly.

After everything he’d done to her, everything he’d put her through—

For her to willingly—

She glowered at his frozen form, her decision already made. He really owed her this time.

She stood on her tip toes, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Just because I’m doing this, doesn’t mean I’m not still furious with you,” she said sternly before pressing her lips against his. Within moments his lips became soft beneath hers, no longer made of ice, but flesh. His body slumped against hers, warm and supple.

Anna groaned, buckling under his weight. She tried to prop him up without falling over, but was failing miserably. He was no longer frozen, but not conscious either. Anna blew her bangs out of her eyes, unbelievably frustrated with him. Once again, she was saving his ass and he was being difficult about it. Heaven forbid anything with Hans be easy.

Sitron gave a neigh and entered the glade, nudging his nose between Anna and the very heavy, dead weight of Hans. Sitron kneeled, allowing Anna to shove Hans’s limp frame over the horse’s back.

“Thanks, Sitron,” Anna acknowledged as the horse took on the bulk of his master. Anna made sure Hans was secure before climbing atop the stallion. She looked up at the sky, dusk was coming fast. She took the reins with a shiver. “Let’s go.”


	21. Chapter 20

Back at the cottage, cleaned and fed, Anna sat in the rocking chair by the hearth, tending the fire. Sitron had taken them back here, not that Anna had expected otherwise.

She had looked like a wreck when they had arrived back, and had spent a great deal of time picking twigs and leaves from her braids and scrubbing away the putrid dirt from under her fingernails. She’d stripped down to her undergarments, washing her clothing as best she could and hanging them to dry. She didn’t want any reminders of what she had endured the night before in the troll glade.

Hans was still unconscious, and it had taken Anna a bit of work to get him into the cottage and onto the bed. He seemed to be okay after the incident with the trolls. Anna had removed his tailcoat and waistcoat, unbuttoning his linen shirt to check the frozen spot on his heart. It still remained, blacker than ever, much to her disappointment. She had hoped that kissing him in the glade had been enough to finally break him of his curse, but deep down she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Nothing with Hans was simple.

When they had first fled the palace, Anna had been rapt to help, so willing to do whatever was necessary, whatever she could to pitch in, to fix things. She had finally been given the answer on how she could best do that, but she hadn’t liked the answer she received.

She had thought that going to the trolls would provide a simple answer, something that could be easily done. What she had gotten was not what she expected. She had gotten far more problems than just a rogue troll wife claiming thirteen frozen hearts. The trolls themselves had been corrupted by past Westergaard betrayals, and it would surely continue if not stopped this time around.

And Hans was the key to fixing it all. Only that depended on two things: Anna breaking him of his curse, and then, what Hans intended to do with himself afterwards.

Liesel had been vague about the outcomes, making Anna less confident than she had been at the start of this mad quest. She had been told that she was the best chance Hans had, but the way Anna saw it, ‘best’ was looking pretty dismal considering Hans had abandoned her to the trolls in the first place.

The moment she had become expendable again, Hans had left her. Anna wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him. Hell, she wasn’t entirely sure she forgave him for it the first time. And she certainly didn’t forgive herself for it now. She hated herself for being such an idiot, and for not heeding her own careful warnings.

She’d gone and done the very thing she had told herself over and over again not to do.

She had fallen for Hans.

If anyone could save him, it would be her. She was the one foolish enough to keep trying, since she was the one who loved him. She shouldn’t love him at all, but she did. Everything he was, and everything he did, practically screamed at her not to give him her heart, and yet she had.

Truthfully, she’d given it to him over a year ago, and he’d held onto it so tightly that Anna knew she was never getting it back. He just didn’t know he had it, and Anna was terrified what would happen if he found out.

She knew she loved him, and as she stared into the fire, she was trying to decide if she was _in_ love with him. An idea she was not keen to entertain. What was she supposed to tell Elsa if she was actually in love with Hans? It was already bad enough that she loved him, but to be _in_ love? She shuddered at the thought.

She was trying to ignore the steady sound of his breathing. In fact, she was trying to ignore him altogether. Anna was still absolutely livid with him, and even though she had begrudgingly gotten him back to safety, she did not want to be in the same room with him. She couldn’t even look at him without the urge to throttle him.

The worst part was that she only had herself to blame. In their time together, Hans had never been anything else than what he was. And Anna had still fallen for him. It was a gross failing in character on her part. A deficit in her judgement, a flaw she could not remedy no matter how hard she tried.

The rustling of blankets caught her attention, Hans was finally waking up. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to turn and face him. How could she ever be ready for him? There was so much there that she didn’t want to deal with, didn’t want to acknowledge. But it was all there, all nudging at her from the background of everything she was thinking.

“Anna?”

She could hear the bewilderment in his quiet voice. It was not unlike the last time he’d seen her alive when she was supposed to be dead to him. It was a year ago, he’d said the same thing, confused to find her exactly where she wasn’t supposed to be in accordance to his plans.

_Anna? But she froze your heart._

He didn’t say it, but he might as well have said, ‘ _Anna? But I left you to the trolls_.’

Twice now, he had intended to leave her for dead, only to wake up and discover that she was still there, that she was stronger than whatever he threw at her. Anna had no idea what was wrong with her. She should have been able to leave him this time.

Instead, she had gone back to the glade, brought him back from being frozen solid, and gotten him back to the safety of the cottage. She should have returned the favours he kept paying her and been the one to leave _him_.

Except she wouldn’t, and that confirmed everything.

She didn’t just love Hans, she was _in_ love with him.

She couldn’t help but feel disgusted with herself at the admission.

What would Elsa say?

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight to sit up. Anna still did not turn to face him. She continued to poke at the fire in front of her. She knew she’d have to eventually look at him. She’d brought him back, she knew everything she needed to from the Troll Wife, it was just that she wasn’t ready for him.

She wasn’t ready to look at his face or hear what he had to say. Most of all, she wasn’t ready for what she had to say to him.

“Did it work?” he asked, followed by a rumpling of shirt fabric and a disappointed sigh. “Oh.”

Anna fumed silently, her hands balling into fists. How typical of Hans to worry about himself first. Instead of checking to see if the frozen spot on his chest remained, he should have been asking her how the hell she had survived his betrayal a second time. But he didn’t, and it only made Anna more furious that she had hoped otherwise.

He caught on immediately that she was angry and followed up with, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Anna bit back, forcing her words to sound civil. Could he have asked anything stupider? “I’m not okay.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” She stared at the flames, trying to keep her voice low and steady, trying to keep her emotions in check. “About any of it?”

“I mean, it’s disappointing, for sure, but at the very least, we know the trolls are involved—”

Snapping, she whirled around to face him in a fury. “You gave me to the trolls!”

“Well, yeah, but it was all part of the plan. I wasn’t really going to let them have you. I told you to trust me, remember?”

“Plan!” Anna screeched, unable to believe what he was saying. “What plan? You _left_ me! You stepped aside, froze solid, and abandoned me alone in that glade with God only knows how many of them!” She choked back tears. “What happened to keeping me safe?”

“Wait, I froze _solid?_ ” Hans sounded genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t plan on that, but it was a bit spur of the moment given the circumstances of the situation, so I couldn’t have accounted for everything.”

Anna ran her hands through her hair, they shook with rage. She felt like tearing out the strands and screaming. He was so goddamned self absorbed! “You don’t even have the decency to ask me first how I escaped! You don’t even care!”

“The sunrise,” Hans answered, his eyes wide. “I had tried my best to plan our arrival at the glade as close to sunrise as possible—as a precaution. Good thing I did too.”

“You don’t honestly expect me to believe you, do you?”

Hans was quiet for a moment, a sort of stunned silence. “Yes. Anna, I swear to you, I wasn’t going to leave you with them. You have to believe me, you—” He stopped dead as he stared at her face, the silence between them engulfing the room with the truth Anna didn’t want to say out loud. A truth that could ruin their faulty partnership.

She knew the exact moment he realized it because it was the exact moment she realized _he_ trusted _her_.

“You don’t trust me,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. “I thought—well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought.” He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly before beginning his explanation. “I know this doesn’t look good, okay? But it was an unfortunate accident that I froze. I was only going to trick them—”

“Trick them?” Anna stared at him incredulously. “You can’t trick trolls! They are wise beyond measure, they would know right away…” Anna trailed off as more pieces to the puzzle of Hans fell into place.

The trolls had known, had been waiting for him. Waiting for him to return to the forest, to enter their glade, since the time he was just a boy and had eluded their grasp. Liesel had protected him then, keeping him in the cottage safe from the trolls. She’d even _told_ Anna the trolls would have killed him had they gotten to him first. It stood to reason that they would still want him dead.

_Oh God_.

The truth hit Anna full force. Liesel had protected him again, a second time. It wasn’t the trolls that had frozen Hans in the glade like Anna had thought. It was Liesel. The Troll Wife had said it herself, that Hans had failed his test even though he hadn’t meant to. It was Liesel who had allowed them to face the trolls as his test. When he’d failed, she’d protected him by freezing him solid. When the trolls had spoken of him needing ‘ _her_ ’ protection, Anna had assumed that the ‘ _her_ ’ in question was herself, but it was Liesel they were speaking of.

Anna scowled, hating that he was telling the truth, and hating that it was her fault Hans was even back in this forest. She mustered all her anger, and directed it towards him. “I was still bait, and you still used me. You still put my life at risk.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But you did it anyway.”

And that was why he had failed.

Anna turned away from him. How she wanted to just get up and leave. She was so tired of all of this; the curse, her feelings, Hans. Navigating through anything Hans said or did was exhausting, and as much as Anna wanted to believe him, as much as the facts lined up, Anna knew she could never fully trust him. Even when she was positive he was telling the truth, caution still screamed at her because he would still endanger her if the stakes were high enough.

How was she ever supposed to be enough for him? What was she supposed to do? How could she ever possibly convince him, make him see? She was just Anna. Nothing more and nothing less. She was the worst best chance he had.

Hans heaved a sigh, and she heard him flop back down on the bed. “I always get it wrong with you, don’t I?”

Anna didn’t know how to answer that. Was he trying to do something right? Liesel had said as much to her in the glade. Hans didn’t elaborate on his thoughts. She wasn’t even sure he had meant to say it out loud, so Anna pretended she didn’t hear him.

They sat in deafening silence, neither quite being finished talking to the other, but neither wanting to start up again. They had reached a standstill, an impasse, their partnership balancing on the edge of a knife. Anna had no idea how they were supposed to come back from this. Everything was crumbling to pieces.

“I lied,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“Big surprise,” she retorted, immediately regretting her sarcasm. She clamped her mouth shut and stared at the fire. Hans never admitted to lying.

She heard him move again, rolling to his side. She could feel his eyes on her.

“In the dungeon, when I said that I didn’t want to know what you’d been up to the past year, I was lying. I loved knowing. I know that when my brothers would return from the sea with news about you, they wanted to rub it in. Wanted to taunt me with it. Wanted it to hurt. But the joke was on them, because no matter the news, good or bad, I craved it. I wanted to know, even if it stung.”

“Why?” Anna whispered, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Because…” He sat up, speaking softly, “Being around you made me feel _something_. Something other than just jealousy or bitterness or contempt. It made me feel alive. Being with you…it was exhilarating. I didn’t know I would miss it...that I would miss _you_.” He leaned in closer to her, resting his weight on his elbows, and Anna did everything in her power to ignore the intrusion of her space. “Anna…if I froze solid, how did you unfreeze me this last time?”

Anna bristled at the question, he was much too close. She wanted nothing more than to lean into him, and that was wrong. “I brought you back. What does it matter how I did it?”

“It matters,” he answered, his voice oddly quiet.

“It doesn’t,” Anna said, hoping to have the final say on it. She stood up from her chair, getting some distance between them. Hans pulled back from his lean, sitting up straight on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving her. Anna moved away from the fire, distracting herself by tidying up the dishes she’d left on the table, making sure to keep her back to him.

“You kissed me, didn’t you?” he asked, rising from the bed.

Anna stopped, her body going rigid at his words. The teacup in her hand began to shake. “I told you, it doesn’t matter how I did it.”

“It was a kiss, wasn’t it?” He stepped closer. “You kissed me. Even after you thought I’d betrayed you. You thought I’d left you to those trolls, and _you still kissed me_.”

“So?” Anna closed her eyes, he was right behind her now, almost pressed up against her back. She could feel the heat of his body radiating in the small gap left between them. His breath was hot on her bare shoulder as he leaned his head in, almost nuzzling her neck. She bit back a sigh.

“So,” he breathed, his arm slowly reaching around her and taking the teacup from her trembling hand, placing the cup down on the table. “I don’t know anybody else who would ever do that for me. Just you.”

Anna didn’t dare move, not that she could without brushing up against him in the process. He had effectively trapped her between himself and the table. She swallowed hard, trying to quell the fire he lit within her. She should push him away, admonish him for behaving in such a forward manner with her, but as loud as her brain was shouting common sense at her, her heart was answering him much louder in consent.

“I didn’t know you were in the Southern Isles until they announced you at the ball,” he admitted. “Nobody told me. In hindsight, I should have known. They were all so interested in if I’d be attending the ball, but didn’t elaborate why. I wasn’t prepared, and seeing you again, I…I wanted to be around you so badly.” He gave a small laugh. “I spent over half the evening trying to devise a way just to get near you again, and then my stupid brother came along and threw you right into my arms, and you stayed. You _stayed_ with me. I think that’s the only time Lennart’s pettiness has ever worked in my favour.”

“Well,” Anna began, trying to dispel the intimate mood with humour. “You were the preferred choice out of the two of you.”

Her words had the opposite effect and he touched her then, his face gently nuzzling the tender skin at the crook of her neck. The coarse scratch of his sideburns tickled as he nestled closer. Anna inhaled with a pleasant shiver, titling her head in the opposite direction to give him better access.

He took the invitation without hesitation, his lips brushing softly across her now sensitive skin. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I left Arendelle. For the past year, you’ve done nothing but haunt my thoughts. And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Her breath hitched. The longing in his admission called to her. She knew the feeling he’d described only too well. For the past year, he’d dominated her thoughts, her sleep, her daydreams, and no matter who she was with or how hard she had tried, Hans was always there, waiting for her in the wings of her mind.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured against her skin. “Tell me it’s wrong. Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll stop.” He nipped her delicately, grazing her neck with his teeth. “Just say it, one word from you, and it’s done, I promise. I won’t try again.”

Anna scrunched her eyes shut tighter. She knew if she did this—if _they_ did this—it would upset the balance and change everything. The aftermath would be disastrous. She’d be ruined for a marriage to anyone else. She would _have_ to tell Elsa. There would be no way Anna could ever hide such a monumental change in her life. No way she could pretend to love anyone but him.

She knew she could never have Hans once and be done with it. One torrid night of passion would never be enough, and yet one, was better than none at all.

“Please, Anna,” he rasped, his kisses much more urgent. “Just tell me you hate me, tell me I’m wrong and that there’s nothing between us. Tell me, and it’s over. I swear to you.”

She shook her head no. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t possibly let him think that she didn’t feel the same. There was no lying anymore, no more denying, no more hiding.

“I want you, Hans.”

He choked back a sob of relief, his voice barely audible, “No one has ever wanted me.”

There was a world of loneliness in those words, and Anna intended to rectify that. She turned to face him, looking him square in the eye, never surer of her answer.

“I do.”

And it was true. She did want him. She’d always wanted him. It had just taken her a heck of a long time to admit it. To accept that after all Hans was and did that she still wanted him. He was a disaster, constantly getting it wrong, forever messing it all up, but she loved him.

And she could see it now, see that despite everything he was, he was trying. Trying to be better, trying to meet her half way, trying to understand what she was to him. Little by little, bit by bit, Hans had been trying. He’d been doing his best for her. And while his best still wasn’t good enough, maybe in time it would be. She’d been wrong when she thought Hans would never be more than what he was. He’d been changing the entire time he’d been with her, slowly, in tiny increments, learning from her and growing from his mistakes.

Their lips met instantaneously, and this time, Anna could finally admit that kissing him had never felt more right. Standing on her tippy toes, she slipped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair as he pulled her tightly against him, deepening their kiss. He moaned softly, the sound muffled by her mouth upon his.

She almost wanted to giggle at his enthusiasm. Hans was much more excitable and unrestrained in his kisses than what Anna was used to in a lover. He moved at a level of intensity that Anna had never experienced before, every kiss thrilling her to the core. Every kiss reminding her of the acute attraction she’d been denying herself. There were so many missed opportunities she felt she had to catch up on.

He kissed her fervently, and Anna responded eagerly in kind.

She had wanted this kiss since the first moment she’d met him. To finally allow it to happen, to let it flourish, to explore how far they could go—this was love. This was what she’d been missing in Kristoff’s arms, why it had never felt quite right with him. It had always been too safe, too mild, too sweet. Never crossing boundaries, never testing the limits of what she was or could be.

But this?

This messy, jumbled thing between her and Hans _could_ be true love.

Because this was what Anna was at her core. He brought out the best in her. She was an adventurer, a pleasure seeker, a risk taker, a lover, a fighter. She saw the world with her heart, not her head. Ever since Elsa’s frozen summer, Anna had forgotten who she was, forever comparing herself to Elsa and never quite measuring up. She had become so occupied with being like Elsa that she’d lost sight of everything special about herself.

Hans had always been able to see her, that was what he had been trying to say to her that day in the dungeon. He wasn’t trying to insult her when he’d told her nobody else saw her for her, he’d been ineloquently trying to tell her that he did. That _she_ had been his preference, not Elsa. Anna didn’t need to try and be anything but who she was around him.

Hans knew what she was. She was his hero. He’d all but told her or tried to tell her multiple times over.

He enjoyed her company. He admired her. He respected her ideas—so much that he’d been going along with her ideas with very little resistance, if any at all, right from the moment they had danced at the ball. He wasn’t able to show his true affection the way she was used to, the way Kristoff had, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything there.

Anna may not have had any real magic, but to Hans, she was the most magical creature he would ever know. She was rare. She was special. She was simply Anna, and for him, that was enough. This time around, she was enough.

Everything he couldn’t seem to say right or express properly, was crystal clear in his kisses. He was a silent poet with his tongue, a quiet musician with his lips. He tasted of unspoken promises and apologies, a bittersweetness she’d never find anywhere else.

His hands slid softly down her waist, his fingers delicately brushing her buttocks in a feather soft touch that tickled to the point of teasing. Anna leaned into him, enjoying their height difference, his arousal pressing hard into her belly as she awkwardly balanced on her tip toes to keep her lips locked on his.

Hans gave an aggravated groan, before scooping her up in his arms, his palms now firmly digging into her buttocks as he hiked her up high enough to fit against him properly. Anna gasped at the feel of his hardness rubbing against her. She instinctively spread her thighs wider, the slit in her drawers pulling apart as she wrapped her legs around his hips tightly, securing the position.

It felt beyond naughty to be like this with him, to have her nakedness pressed against the taut wool of his trousers, the sensation driving her mad with want. They were so close and yet still so far. It made her dizzy with lust knowing the only barrier stopping them from crossing that line was a bit of fabric between them. Her body thrummed with a heat she’d never known until now, the dull ache in between her thighs quickly turning into an urgent throb.

He whimpered in rapture as she ground her pelvis into him in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief from the salacity she could no longer quell.

“Oh _God_ , Anna! I—”

She cut him off with her mouth back on his, needing to devour him, needing to taste every inch of his mouth. Needing him to be so much closer than he already was.

He broke off the kiss, panting, his eyes wide and full of stars. “I think I might be in love with you.”

It was a clumsy, earnest proclamation. Poorly timed, and poorly worded, and all at once he was that blundering idiot she’d met on the Arendelle docks a year ago.

And it made her want him even more. If that was even possible.

She kissed him harder, shoving her tongue into his mouth with a ferocity that warranted him to move them to the waiting bed as quickly as possible. He stumbled, trying to kiss and move them all at the same time, bumping into almost everything as he clumsily carried her to the other side of the cottage, nearly falling on her with his full weight when they reached the bed.

He was apologizing for his ungainly behaviour while she yanked his shirt up over his head. His hair was wonderfully tussled from the linen, and Anna swore the freckles dotting his face were far more prominent than she ever remembered them. He was no longer ungodly handsome, but painfully adorable. His cheeks were flushed in a blush, his smile sweetly hesitant and self conscious.

And he was absolutely perfect.

And absolutely worth it.

Anna pulled him back down to her, nipping at his neck, but he didn’t stay. He was far too eager, much too keen, as though he’d been keeping his desire in check for an eternity only to just come untethered. In the blink of an eye, he slid himself down her body, keeping himself in between her splayed thighs. His fingers moved far more nimbly as he snatched up the cord of her drawers and promptly undid the tie, all but yanking the string completely out from her waistband.

Anna inhaled, biting her lower lip in ardent anticipation. He glanced up at her from in between her thighs, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he tugged her drawers off, throwing the discarded fabric off behind him. His hot breath against her exposed womanhood had her squirming in sheer delight.

She watched with baited breath as he dipped his head down, bringing his mouth down on her in the softest of kisses while never breaking eye contact. His tongue flicked out, his lick unbearably gentle and unbearably slow. Anna gave a salacious moan, arching her hips up to him as his tongue worked her into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

His eyes never left hers, creating an altogether higher level of intimacy. One Anna had never known existed until him. He upped his tempo, coinciding with the waves of pleasure building inside her, mounting higher and higher, a crescendo of pleasure until she hit her peak, crying out in ecstasy. When the last few tremors of bliss faded, Hans pulled his head up from her, resting on his elbows. He licked his lips, grinning like a cat that ate a canary.

She supposed he was, and the thought made her giggle.

He even moved like a cat as he slunk himself back up her body. Anna couldn’t resist going for the buttons on the fall front of his trousers. He was positioning himself above her so she could get him unbuttoned as quickly as possible when she noticed it. She gasped in surprise.

“Your frozen patch is gone.”

Hans blinked, looking at his chest in shock as Anna ran her hand over his skin where the spot used to be. His skin was hot under hers as she grazed her fingers across his chest, his nipples hardening at her touch. His lips quirked up in a half smile, as though he couldn’t quite believe it was gone.

“I think you broke my curse.”

Anna shook her head. “I don’t have any magic.”

“I know that. You have something else.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“My heart.” He looked nervous, his gaze hesitant and vulnerable. “I think I knew it the moment we met at the ball. I just didn’t understand it then. The witch couldn’t claim my heart, because I had already given it to you. It wasn’t mine anymore.”

“That’s why I shouldn’t be,” Anna whispered, finally understanding. “Under the conditions of the curse, you weren’t supposed to be able to do that. You shouldn’t be able to love me, there should be no one but the witch able to hold your heart.”

“And you kept it, even at my worst, even—” He looked guilty. “Even when I tried to take it back after the cottage. Everything was my fault, and I knew that—that you were even involved in the first place was because of me. It was my fault the witch wanted you dead, and I thought if I could just take it back…but it only made things worse. She still went after you and I couldn’t stop it. But you! You never left me, you never gave up. You always could have, but you _didn’t_. Magic or not, _you_ broke my curse.”

Anna shook her head. “We both did. Together. You forget that you kept coming back to me. She could never keep you for long.”

“You really are quite warm to snuggle up to,” Hans admitted earnestly. “Irresistibly warm. You’ve no idea how I long to be near you.”

She gave him an impish grin, moving her hands back to his trousers, working the many buttons past the fall front open, and deliberately ignoring his hard on jutting out from beneath the modesty panel. “Well, since I’m very good at warming you up, I think we’d better make absolutely sure we’ve completely thawed your frozen heart.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” He sighed, practically purring, his eyes fluttering shut in delight as she fully freed his erection from his trousers. She slipped her hand over him in a teasing motion, eliciting the most divine moan from his throat.

She’d barely held his naked length in her hands before the room suddenly went cooler.

“Anna!”

The sound of Elsa’s voice from across the room had Anna and Hans scrambling apart as quickly as humanly possible, though there was no way what they had been doing could possibly be misinterpreted by Elsa.


	22. Chapter 21

Anna yanked the blanket from the bed up to cover her nakedness while Hans hastily fastened his trousers back up.

“Elsa, I can explain!” Heart pounding with dread, Anna turned to meet her sister, only to breath a huge sigh of relief. A snowgie stood by the open window, Elsa’s voice emitting from it, “Anna! Are you there?”

Hans rubbed his hands over his face with a groan, falling gracelessly back onto the bed. “I can’t tell if I’m unlucky or lucky right now.”

Grumbling, Anna reached for her drawers on the floor. Getting up from the bed, she shoved them on and went to retrieve the little snowgie.

Once she had the tiny creature in her hands she spoke into its mouth, “I’m here, Elsa.”

“Are you all right?” Elsa asked. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you sooner.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Anna glanced at Hans still sprawled on the bed as he stared woefully up at the ceiling. “We both are.”

“That’s up for debate,” Hans mumbled, and Anna stifled a laugh. He looked absolutely crestfallen lying there. Elsa’s snowgie could not have arrived at a more inopportune time.

“What was that?” Elsa asked. “You’ll have to speak up.”

“N-nothing,” Anna answered.

“I’ll get right to it then,” Elsa said. “We were able to get more information from the Queen Dowager regarding the curse, and with it, we’ve figured out what type of curse the witch has used.” Elsa’s voice got excited. “Anna, she’s using an ancient troll magic! The Queen Dowager gave up one of her mirrors as the base for the magic, housing the curse. The mirror was then broken in a ritual perverting the spell; with each brother getting a shard in their hearts. If we can find the mirror and bring it back to the Queen Dowager, we can lift the curse! The Queen Dowager only needs to hold the mirror and everything is negated. The contract null, the Westergaards no longer under the witch’s control! All we need to do now is locate the mirror.”

Hans stiffened at Elsa’s words. Straightening up, he looked at Anna. “The troll glade.”

Anna nodded. It had to be there in one of the piles of broken mirrors littering the glade. Hans was already climbing off the bed.

Anna spoke into the snowgie, “I think Hans and I know exactly where to look.”

“No, listen to me,” Elsa replied sternly. “It’s far too dangerous. Grete thinks the likeliest place for the mirror to be is in this enchanted forest on the main island, and trust me, that is no place for you to be; _especially_ after being touched by the Arendelle trolls’ magic.”

“Too late,” Hans interjected.

“Wait, _what_? No, Anna, I forbid it!” Elsa snapped at them in alarm, before her voice went shrill. “Oh God! I—I have to go! Grete’s water just broke. The baby is coming!”

The snowgie collapsed into a pile of powdery snow before disappearing into thin air.

Anna stared at Hans. With the baby on the way, their time was seriously running out.

“We can’t go back to the glade right now. The trolls are awake,” Hans stated as he paced the floor in frustration. “I doubt they’d be very happy to see us again…okay, me again. You, they want too much. I’m not taking you anywhere near there while they’re awake.”

Anna agreed, drumming her fingers on the window sill in thought. Not only did she never want to see the trolls again, but she was positive they’d try to kill Hans on sight for sure this time _and_ keep her. The trolls were done playing games and riddles.

“First thing tomorrow morning then. If we time it right, we can get there for sunrise.” Anna was already planning their course of action. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find your mother’s mirror somewhere in those piles.”

Hans stopped in mid-step, panicking. “I have no idea what my mother’s mirror looks like.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “There are hundreds of mirrors piled in heaps there. What if I screw it all up and pick wrong?”

“It’s okay,” Anna soothed, remembering Liesel. “She’ll be there in the daylight, and I’m pretty sure she’ll help. She wants the curse broken too.”

Hans furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry, but who are we talking about?”

“Oh boy,” Anna breathed, feeling stupid for not mentioning any of it earlier. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Well,” Hans gave a dejected sigh, “your sister’s untimely interruption and Grete going into labour kind of killed the mood for other activities, so I’m all ears.”

Anna snickered. “It’s not like we don’t have the rest of the night.”

Hans still wore a worried expression. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to consummate anything. Grete being pregnant kind of paints the consequences in a very real light. I won’t risk getting you with child, not when we can’t actually be together. Lifting my curse or not, a bastard child isn’t a price I’m willing to pay. I won’t place that title on any child of mine. There are already enough garbage Westergaard fathers, and I’m not exactly keen to join the ranks.”

He was right, of course. A moment of passion could hold a lifetime of consequences, but in the heat of the moment they had forgotten that. Anna heaved a sigh before giving him a sly smile. “We can still do other stuff though.”

Hans grinned, stalking towards her like a cat ready to pounce. “Most definitely.”

Anna held her hand up. “But first, work.”

Hans gave a small whine, stopping just before her outstretched palm. “And then we play.”

She leaned forward and gave him an apologetic kiss. “I guess I need to get you up to speed. A lot has happened since the troll glade when you froze.”

Hans gave her his full attention.

“First things first,” Anna began. “I met the elderly lady of this cottage. The one who helped you when you were little.”

Hans looked at her in concern. “You can’t have, she would be long dead by now.”

“Hans—” Anna took a deep breath. There wasn’t really an easy way to say any of it, so she might as well just say it all. “She’s your Great Great Great Great Great Aunt Liesel, and she’s a bonafide Troll Wife…and I assure you, she is very much alive.”

* * *

When Anna finished relaying all she had learned from the Troll Wife, even the frustrating parts, like needing a Westergaard born of love to restore the trolls, Hans grinned excitedly at her.

“Anna!” He laughed, tugging her into a playful hug. “I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out! It’s me! Don’t you see? I’m the one meant to restore the trolls.”

“How do you figure that?” Anna asked, puzzled. His parents had despised him.

“You already said that I was the fault in the witch’s bargain. That I was the best chance at breaking the curse, and if I was saved it was yet to be seen what I would do.”

“Yeah.” Anna still wasn’t sure where he was going. “I thought it meant the witch’s curse not the initial one.”

“It’s all in the wording. At the very least, I weaken the witch by being totally free, toppling the stability of her magic. That gives your sister an edge to completely defeat her in a fight. At the very best, I choose to go to the glade and restore the trolls.”

“What if she just meant your job was to pick out a mirror?”

Hans shook his head. “My aunt, she specifically told you that _you_ wouldn’t need to seek out the Westergaard that would save the trolls. Looking wasn’t your task.” His eyes were bright and expectant. “Because I’m right here! You don’t need to find me, because you already did! She already told you I was the one, she just did it out of order.”

Anna thought about it, it did make sense. The Troll Wife had said that everything about Hans mattered because when he was born, the magic to right the wrongs of his family had slipped in. “I suppose your parents must have loved each other, even if they didn’t…”

“Love me,” he finished for her. “Again, it’s the perfect trick! I was hiding in plain sight the whole time!”

Anna smiled. “Yes, that does sound like a very troll thing to do.”

Trolls did love a good puzzle. She felt silly for not figuring it out on her own. If she had, they could have solved the problem of the trolls when she was in the glade with the Troll Wife. The Westergaard born of love had already been in the glade at high noon, only he had been cursed and frozen solid.

Liesel had even told Anna that she had done something right because Hans was still in the glade. If Anna had figured out what it all meant then, maybe she and Hans would be on their way back to the palace with the mirror already. After all, the two curses were connected.

Hans pulled her into an excited kiss.

“We did it! Just like you said from the start. We can save the Southern Isles.”

Anna grinned, kissing him back. “Yeah, we did. Together.”

“And now we can play?” He cocked an eyebrow while lacing his arms around her, his fingers already tugging on the strings of her corset.

Anna pretended to ponder his question before answering with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”

Hans grinned, gently turning her around so he could see the lacings at her back. “It’s a good thing I’ve already had a practice run with this particular garment.”

Anna giggled, thinking back to that night he’d helped her undress. “Did you want me then?”

“Yes,” he replied, not even hesitating. “You nearly undid me with that spider silk chemise.”

“Spider silk?”

“What else could it have been made of to be that thin?” He gave a string a yank and Anna felt the corset loosen. “That damn thing was so see through I instantly regretted giving it to you.”

“You’re exaggerating. It wasn’t that bad.”

“I’m not, and it was.” His lips grazed the nape of her neck. “I saw _everything_.”

She wiggled her hips back against him. “You could have said something, you know.”

He chuckled, the soft, rumbly sound reverberating off her skin, making Anna gasp. “I did. I suggested you find something else.”

“And yet, you knowingly let me wear that down to the stream.”

“It turned out to be too cold to try anything.”

“Wait, what?” Anna turned her head back towards him. “You little sneak! You wanted to try something at the stream, didn’t you?”

Hans only answered with a smirk.

“You did!” Anna cried, heat rushing to her cheeks.

“You went along with the idea,” he answered mildly, nudging the fully loosened corset up, prompting Anna to lift her arms. “In all honesty, I couldn’t believe you had agreed to go down to the stream with me at all.”

“And yet, you didn’t try anything.”

The corset went up over her head with ease, and Hans chucked it off to the side. “You fully intended to bathe. I’d no idea you were actually that naïve.”

It was Anna’s turn to smirk, raising a wry eyebrow. “Really? _No idea_? I did agree to marry you within a single evening.”

“And,” he answered, slowly drawing her backwards towards the bed. “If I’d had my wits about me then, I would have swept you off to the nearest blacksmith post-haste after your sister said no.”

Anna laughed, whirling around to give him a full view of her naked breasts before she began tugging his shirt up. “An elopement? How romantic.”

“Did I not mention I’m a romantic?” he teased as she pulled his shirt off. He dipped down to catch one of her nipples in his mouth. A soft moan escaped her lips, and he grinned, his teeth grazing the rosy bud with relish until the little nub was hard.

“Oh!” she hissed in delight, pushing him gently onto the bed.

He shuffled backwards, pulling her with him until they were both comfortably situated on the bed; Hans on his back, and Anna hovering on her hands and knees above him. Their bantering ending with their mouths meeting to exchange kisses instead of words.

Anna was more than ready to explore the landscape of Hans, her lips trailing errantly from his mouth down to his neck, and then to his collarbone. She suckled his flesh along that delectable bone, garnering a sigh from him before she shifted her attentions further down, her lips now joined with her hands in exploration.

Hans’s chest was every bit as taut and firm as Anna knew it was. Only this time, she had the luxury of _enjoying_ splaying her hands on his body and could take her time, appreciating his physique for her own pleasure.

He was restless and eager, squirming underneath her touch, wanting her to move further down and direct her attentions to where they had initially left off before Elsa’s snowgie had interrupted. But Anna would not be rushed. Hans, she decided, was meant to be savoured. He was that first sip of champagne, that first bite of decadent chocolate. The kind of treat that made her close her eyes, inhale slowly, and linger in the moment of euphoria before swallowing and indulging again.

Hans had spent his entire life as unwanted. Anna was more than ready to change his perceptions, and prove just how wanted he was. Prove that she desired him above all else. It was obvious he wasn’t used to the attention or the care Anna took with him. His body responded to her touch the way parched earth responded to long awaited rain. Whatever attentions she lavished on him, he took with relish; his body arching towards her, trying to get more of whatever she gave.

She thought he’d come nearly undone when she slid her knee up between his legs, finally giving him something of her to rub himself against, as her thigh pressed into him. She set him off kilter by going back up to his mouth with hers, devouring him in a kiss while he writhed against her thigh much more urgently. She dipped her hands to the buttons on his trousers, again taking her time undoing each one, slowly teasing as he bucked underneath her, a whimper escaping his throat.

When she broke off their kiss to continue her lips down his body a second time, his eyes followed her with a love drunk gaze. He nearly chewed his bottom lip off in anticipation the closer she got to his waistline. He was so ready for her that it was adorable, his eagerness quickly melting into wanton desperation. Anna grinned up at him as she tugged his trousers down his thighs, and leaned in to fully taste him.

The sharp inhale of breath from him the moment her lips touched his arousal had Anna responding accordingly. Encasing his length in her mouth, she began to return his earlier favour. He was easy to read, as he turned out to be a very vocal lover. Anna had no idea he could even make noises like that. It was thrilling to hear his pleasure mount in the varying degrees of moans and sighs, and gasps as he gave himself up to her with reckless abandon.

When he finished, dazed and panting, and grinning like an idiot, she crawled up to him and snuggled against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her.

“I don’t think we’re actually going to sleep at all tonight,” he mused aloud.

Anna draped her thigh over his, nestling closer. “I think you’re right.”

He gave a small laugh. “It about time I was with something.”


	23. Chapter 22

Strips of sunlight lit the cottage with the morning sun, but they were both ignoring it. It was almost time to go. They would have to get up soon and head back to the troll glade. Time had never been on their side, and Anna had always known that. What she had with Hans had a time limit that was about to expire.

She wished with all her heart that things could be different, but they both knew it couldn’t be. It was why neither was making any effort to get out of bed quickly and finish what they had set out to do in the first place. Break the curse. They had found each other along the way, discovered they had feelings for one another, and as each minute ticked away, they were closer to a monastery and a kingdom across the sea.

Hans wore a wistful expression as Anna lay nuzzled against him, breathing in his scent while he lazily toyed with a lock of her hair. She trailed her fingers over his chest, over his heart, reveling in the warmth that radiated off his skin. Gone were all traces of the curse, at least superficially. They would ask Liesel if he was free for certain.

“I’m going to miss waking up beside you,” Hans said, breaking the silence. “I’ve gotten rather used to it.”

“It’ll be strange not holding your hand or having you near me all the time.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I really wish I hadn’t messed up the first time. I _do_ regret that.”

“Hans—” The last thing Anna wanted to do was rehash _that_ again, especially with what little time they had left together.

“It’s true. I just couldn’t see it before…maybe I could always see it, I just didn’t want to.” He sighed. “We can’t have any illusions about us, Anna. Just because we decided to be together, and my curse has probably lifted, doesn’t mean we’ve somehow magically fixed everything between us. All that history, all those past crimes and hurts still happened. Time is the only thing that will allow me to make up for that. You’re still you, and I’m still me. All we’ve really done is start to fix things.”

“It’s not enough time.” Anna sniffed. “It’s not fair that I’ve only just found you, and you’re promised to a monastery.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. I do have a lot of things to atone for.”

“Maybe,” Anna said, though she very much believed that Hans’s salvation could be accomplished anywhere, more so in her arms. They were better versions of themselves when they were together than apart. Hans was willing to try to make things right, and Anna was willing to let him, and that was what mattered.

“Or maybe Vilhelm will change his mind.” Hans sounded doubtful.

Anna blew her bangs out of her eyes, facing the cold truth. “Elsa won’t.”

Even if Vilhelm would let them be together, convincing Elsa would take nothing short of a miracle.

In Elsa’s mind, Hans had already committed the most unforgiveable of sins in her book. He’d preyed on Anna in Arendelle, and Elsa would not tolerate Hans as a result. If she hadn’t given them her blessing the first time, she most certainly wouldn’t a second.

She would never risk even the slightest chance of Hans breaking Anna’s heart ever again. Elsa was rabidly protective of Anna when it came to Hans. And if Elsa had thought for a single second that she could have avoided sending Anna off with him in the first place, then Anna would not be here right now.

Hans leaned his head forward and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Stop thinking too much into it. It is what it is now, and we’ll deal with the later when it’s later.” His hand strayed to her thigh, caressing her softly. “It’s the now that matters anyway.”

“Maybe they’ll let you write me.”

“Maybe.” His hand slipped from her thigh upwards, sliding in between her legs. “Though if anyone were to read the things I’d write to you, I’m sure I’d be quickly forbidden from writing.”

Anna grinned at him, reaching her hand over to touch him, finding him already hard. “Perhaps we’d both be in monasteries. I’m sure that’s where I’d be if anyone got a hold of the letters I would write you back.”

That stupid little grin of his spilled over his lips. “Stay with me here a little while longer before we go head first towards our future of lewd correspondence.” He leaned over, drawing her into a kiss.

* * *

They had reached the troll glade late morning with a decent amount of time before noon, when the sun would be at its highest. Hans strolled right past the pillars and into the glade, focused on their mission.

Anna lingered behind, keeping her distance, unsure about entering the glade with him again. So much between them had changed for the better, but as much as she tried not to think about the last time they were here together, it seemed to creep forefront in her mind. The troll glade would always be an awful place for her. Even after being here with Liesel, and even with the trolls asleep, Anna couldn’t forget the terror and hurt she felt that awful moment Hans had left her alone in the glade.

He glanced back at her, his gaze wrought with worry and gave her a slight nod, signaling he understood her apprehension. He didn’t attempt to coax her into entering, understanding that his mistake in the troll glade was not yet water under the bridge. She supposed he was now adding this to his list of penance.

Anna looked around for Liesel, disappointed when she didn’t see the strange woman anywhere in the glade.

“What a dump.” Hans kicked at a broken pot wedged half in the ground that was nestled between two jagged rocks. “Do you think all this stuff is from past bargains and curses through the years?” He nudged at the broken pot again, before shuffling through more trash and making his way over to a pile of mirrors. “It looks worse in the day.”

Anna had to disagree. The glade looked much worse at night. At least in the daylight they could see their surroundings properly, no matter how decrepit and unpleasant.

“ _It’s a shame nothing catches your fancy_.”

“Jesus!” Hans startled, whirling around at the sound of Liesel’s voice and nearly tripping over himself.

Anna searched the glade for the old woman to no avail. She had decided not to show herself, her voice heard only on the cool breeze.

Hand on the pommel of his sword, Hans circled around cautiously. “Show yourself.”

The Troll Wife tsked softly. “ _Such poor manners. Not at all the polite, little lost boy wandering the forest all those years ago._ ”

“My apologies,” Hans answered hesitantly before giving a bow. “I forgot myself, that was rude of me.”

“ _Are you sure you don’t see anything you like? Nothing that catches your fancy?_ ”

“I’m interested in the mirrors,” Hans said, still looking for Liesel in the glade.

Liesel’s laugh could be heard; a twinkling, merry sound, echoing throughout the glade. “ _There now, Princess Anna, I see you stopped thinking so hard about it.”_

“Yes,” Anna answered, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I understand now that things are always changing.”

“ _I knew you’d figure it out. Such a clever girl._ ”

“That’s all well and good,” Hans interrupted, peevishly. “But I could use a little direction over here in regards to the mirrors.”

“ _It isn’t that hard._ _Look around, see what catches your eye_.”

Hans looked less than thrilled with the answer, but he humoured Liesel and began sifting around through the closest pile of broken mirrors. Anna sat patiently as the seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into what she was sure had to be hours as Hans searched.

He turned to Anna in frustration when he finished with the last pile, his eyes beseeching her as he tossed his hands up in confusion. “I don’t know. There’s nothing here.”

“ _Your time is almost up, little prince. I’ve delayed them as long as I could. Your brothers fast approach_.”

The absolute dread Anna felt wash over her matched the expression on Hans’s face at the news of his brothers. His four older brothers that had been sent to track them down were in the woods. For how long Liesel had been keeping them at bay was unknown. Hans began to search through the piles much more frantically, combing over the ones he’d already searched. “Can’t you just tell me where it is? What it looks like?”

“ _Tick tock_.”

Hans gave a disparaging cry. “Anna, help me!” He took a pleading step towards her. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to—” He stopped, his attention caught by something else in the glade. He broke from his path towards her, almost in a trance, and ventured towards something lying atop a pale, sun bleached boulder. It glinted, sparkling when it caught a stray beam of sunlight.

“Is that it?” Anna called as Hans curiously picked up the object, showing that it was a mirror.

The moment he’d touched the broken mirror his complexion went sallow. He swooned, looking as though he was going to faint or be sick.

“Hans!” Anna cried, rushing into the glade towards him.

He doubled forward, grasping the boulder for support as he immediately put the mirror down. “I’m fine, I just—” He clamped his mouth shut, turning away from her as though he would vomit.

Anna hovered nearby, unsure of what to do. Hans waved her off, if he was going to be sick, he did not want her around him. He tried to stand up straight again, gagging the moment his eyes saw the mirror. He turned away from it again. “It’s…the mirror!” He gasped. “It’s making me sick!”

Anna approached the mirror curiously. It didn’t look any different really from any of the other mirrors littering the glade. Except this one had caught the sun, which had then caught the attention of Hans. It was far too dirty and tarnished, just like the rest of the mirrors to catch any sort of sparkle at all. So why this one?

Anna reached for the mirror.

“Don’t!” Hans cried in alarm when he realized what she was doing, but the handle of the broken mirror was already in her hand.

Anna stared at the thing. It was gross to touch, that was for sure. The mirror was grimy from years of neglect and exposure to the elements, but Anna did not feel anything holding it. Whatever reaction it had caused in Hans, she seemed immune to. She furrowed her brow, inspecting the object in her hand. The thing was filthy except for one perfectly polished shard of mirror glass stuck firmly into the face of the mirror.

“Did you wipe this clean?” she asked, pointing to the shard, already knowing he hadn’t. There would have been no way he’d have gotten it that immaculate out here in the brief time he’d held the mirror.

Hans could only shake his head no, he was doubled over again, clinging to the boulder and keeping his face turned from the mirror. “I can’t even look at it.” He panted. “You’ll have to describe it to make sure it’s the right one.”

“I can hardly see how it wouldn’t be,” Anna replied. “I think this shard of glass is yours. The one from your heart. Just look how you’re reacting to it.”

“We have to be sure!”

“Okay, okay,” Anna placated, hearing the panic in his voice. Truth be told, she didn’t like holding the mirror all that much herself seeing the way it affected Hans. “It used to be silver…I think. Only silver tarnishes, right?” She squinted her eyes as she tried rubbing away some of the grime. “Um…gold filigree, and it’s decorated with some sort of gem. Give me a second.” Having no other water to wash the crusted dirt away with, Anna spit on the mirror. Using the cuff of her sleeve she rubbed the gem clean. “It’s an emerald! I think your mom was combing her hair with a brush that matched!”

“Any sort of markings? Crests?” His voice was tight.

Anna turned the mirror over, using more spit to rub anywhere a crest might be placed. After a bit of rubbing she found it. “It’s a rose entwined in thorns.”

Hans breathed a deep sigh. “That’s her family’s crest, before she was a Westergaard. It’s hers.”

“If just looking at it makes you feel ill, we should find something to wrap it in.”

“My cravat,” he said, already untying the material weakly from his neck. “Take my cravat.”

Anna took the long strip of silk from him and began to wrap the mirror in it, making sure to keep it fully covered. She didn’t want even a sliver peeking out in case Hans reacted badly to it. It concerned her to see him in such a weakened state, especially knowing that his brothers were approaching. They both knew that if they encountered his brothers, Hans needed to be at his best. Now that Hans was free of his curse, he had a severe physical disadvantage against his brothers in a fight.

Anna immediately thought of the palace guards and how the brothers had ripped through them with ease. Would Hans still be able to match his siblings in a fight? She didn’t want to think about it.

“There,” Anna replied, the mirror completely wrapped up. “How are you feeling?”

Hans turned to her, his complexion less pale. “Better, with that horrible thing out of sight.” He stood up straight and rolled his shoulders, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “I think it’s best that you hold onto it. Even wrapped up I’m hesitant to touch it.”

“Let’s go then,” Anna urged, taking his arm. “We have to get this back to the palace.” 

Hans was still a little unsteady on his feet as Anna led him to Sitron, who was waiting just outside the glade. It was then that Anna could see them approaching, slinking slowly and with purpose through the trees and brush towards them.

Hans’s brothers had arrived.

“Hans…” Anna gasped in alarm.

“Whatever happens, don’t lose that mirror,” he warned, drawing his sword. Anna clutched the mirror, as the four brothers began to close in on them from all sides of the glade. Hans was tensed and ready to fight. “As soon as I give you an opening, you run to Sitron, and you get the hell out of here.”

Anna clutched his arm. “What about you?”

“That mirror needs to get back to the palace—to my mother. You know that.” His voice was low and steady. “One of us needs to distract them, so the other can escape. It’s the only chance we’ve got.”

The gravity of what he was saying, what he was suggesting, hit Anna full force. “No! I won’t leave you!”

“And I’m not leaving you to die this time!” he hissed back, the severity of his words startling her into agreement. “I stand the better chance of surviving them. I’ve been surviving them my whole life.” He gave her a tight, impish grin, meant to reassure. “It’ll be fine, I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”

The brothers advanced into the glade, slowly closing the space between them. Anna was surprised at how human they appeared to look from the last time she had encountered them. Their movements and appearance were far more natural, with only their eyes betraying the curse with a milky sheen whiting out each iris. Not a hint of ice or implication of being frozen remained.

“Follow me closely,” Hans whispered to her, his eyes trained on his brothers. “Do not leave my side until I tell you.”

She had a bad feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. “Hans—”

“It’ll be fine, Anna—”

“I love you.”

He glanced over at her for the briefest second, his cheeks flushed, that silly little half smile of his on his face. “I love you, too.”

She felt like she had to say it, had to tell him just in case she never got another chance to. He needed to know, and, it turned out, she needed to hear it from him. Needed to know. If anything should happen to him, to either of them, at least she would know that he loved her.

“If we aren’t able to meet up,” he began, his voice barely a whisper, “Sitron will take you to an old servant’s entrance to the palace. Follow the tunnel and turn left the first chance you get. It will lead you up, straight to my quarters.”

Anna could only nod. She’d do everything in her power not to become separated too long from Hans. If she was leaving the eastern woods, then so would he.

“Little brother,” one of the princes spoke as the group entered the glade. The sound forced and gravelly. “You’ve led us on quite the goose chase.”

Hans sucked in a breath, biting his lip. He looked apologetic but didn’t sound sorry in the least. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Our Mistress, she calls for you,” another brother said as they inched closer. “But you don’t answer her.”

“I’m afraid someone else called louder.” Hans gave a self-deprecating shrug. “And I couldn’t help but reply.”

One brother sighed. He stood a step behind the rest. “Do not make us hurt the princess, Hans. Submit and we will leave her here unharmed.”

“That’s a bit of a different attitude than Ulrik and Georg,” Hans replied lightly.

“And we are not so closely watched by our Mistress here. Her attentions are elsewhere. There is…leeway.”

“Sounds as though you are at odds with your mistress, Mikkel.” Hans’s eyes narrowed. “Or is it that you don’t want to risk harm to me in a fight? Your Mistress needs me.”

“Don’t be stupid, Hans!” The last of the brothers snarled. He looked the youngest of the four and Anna suspected this one was Stefan. Hans had mentioned that his brothers closest in age were the nastiest. “You are outmatched and you know it. Mikkel thought it sporting to give the princess a chance. The forest is not kind, but it’ll be kinder than us.”

“Outnumbered, not outmatched,” Hans pleasantly corrected before shouting, “Anna, get down!”

The warning came so quickly that her body responded to the shout before her brain could make any sense of it. She dropped to the ground as Stefan lunged towards them and Hans swung his blade. He swung round and wide, his blade connecting with Stefan’s arm, slashing across the sleeve before knocking a blade straight out of another brother’s hand and then on to blocking the sword of Mikkel.

The blade that fell to the ground landed within Anna’s reach. She stuck out her free hand and grabbed up the sword before the brother clambering for it could retrieve it. Anna may not have known how to use a sword, but she could certainly keep it away from someone who could. She jabbed it at the legs of an advancing brother only to have him leap out of the way.

The weaponless brother had given Hans an opening. He dashed forward with brute force, his arms drawn back, keeping his sword close and pointed straight outward. Anna scrambled behind him as Hans leapt onto the brother; his sword striking straight and true to the heart. The brother’s eyes widened before he collapsed and fell face first into the dirt.

With his free hand, Hans was yanking Anna up from the ground and behind him towards the fallen brother as he turned to face the remaining three. “Go!” he instructed just as Stefan lunged at him a second time.

Anna ran as the sound of metal clashing echoed all around the glade. She was half afraid one brother would get past Hans and come after her, but she knew in her heart that Hans wouldn’t let that happen. He had learned to wield a sword from the best swordsman in the family. Anna had no doubt of his capabilities. He may not have had the strength of his cursed brothers, but he had the skills and wits to keep them at bay.

And he promised her. He promised he’d be right behind her.

So, she did as she was told; no matter how much she wanted to stay with him she ran towards Sitron. When she reached the horse, she immediately shoved the mirror into one of the saddle bags, making sure to buckle the strap tight. She could not afford to lose the mirror.

She had to go. Time was of the essence now. The witch would be coming for Grete’s child.

Anna wasted little time climbing onto Sitron’s back, she took the reins, knowing Hans was right at her back, still…

That feeling came back to the pit of her stomach. That dark, awful feeling that told her something wasn’t right. She turned to look back at the glade, relief washing over her as she saw Hans clearly, running towards her. He was injured, clutching his right arm as he ran, the liquid crimson soaking through his tailcoat and onto his hand, but he was all right, and he was running towards her.

The brother he’d struck down through the heart was still unmoving in the glade, and the remaining three were reorganizing themselves. Whatever cleverness Hans had used in the fight had bought him time to escape. He had enough distance between them that he and Anna could easily flee into the forest.

He would make it. Hans would make it.

And then he did the strangest thing. He came to an abrupt stop just inside the troll glade.

“Come on!” Anna yelled, but Hans didn’t move. He stayed in the glade.

“It’s almost noon,” he answered. “The sun will be at its highest soon.”

Her eyes widened in horror. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about restoring the trolls. It was half the reason they were even in the glade right now. “No! We can come back and try again another time!”

But Hans was shaking his head no. “What if we don’t have another chance at this? If I die outside this glade it could be decades before—”

“—Hans, please!” Anna begged. “Just come with me! You promised!”

“I have to do this, Anna. Look at this place! This is my family’s fault! This happened because of us, and I’m the only one who can set things right. Just a few more minutes, and I can fix this.” His eyes pleaded with her to understand. “I can get it right this time.”

Anna swallowed hard, shaking her head no. Tears welled up in her eyes. His sword arm was injured. There was no possible way he could fight and succeed with an injured arm.

“Please,” Anna whispered. “You’re hurt.”

The remaining brothers were already standing.

“A few more minutes and the baby is safe.” His voice broke, and Anna caught the unshed tears glossy on his eyes. He knew they didn’t stand a chance against his brothers, and instead of prolonging the inevitable and running with her, he was willing to stay behind and do what he was meant to do. “The trolls won’t want anymore baby girls. No more babies as payments ever.”

He pulled his hand from the wound on his arm and took his sword up, switching the blade to his left hand. He stood defiant between Anna and his siblings.

“Go!” he instructed her.

The brothers flanked him, and he fought. Hans could wield his sword left handed.

Anna held her breath. Her hands covering her mouth. She didn’t dare blink. Didn’t dare look away. The glade grew lighter as the sun rose higher in the sky. High noon. The sun was at its highest.

And Hans was in the glade.

He was valiant. He was noble. He was just. The very things a Westergaard had once been known for.

But he couldn’t keep up his speed, couldn’t match the strength of his brothers. Though he could fight left handed, he was nowhere near as agile or as powerful as he was with his right, but he refused to back down, refused to let even one sibling slip past him towards Anna.

And the brothers were so much stronger. It was like watching the palace guards fight the brothers.

She saw it happen in slow motion, already crying out and screaming his name as the blade struck him. The flash of metal, the splash of blood, the way he stumbled backwards. He fell, dropping to his knees and looking up at her.

If she could get to him quickly enough, she could help him onto Sitron and they could flee together.

She had to get to him.

The brothers were advancing to finish the job, and she was already moving to climb down off of Sitron when he did it. Hans raised his fingers to his mouth and whistled. A sharp, shrill series of whistles Sitron responded to. Before Anna could even get near dismounting, the horse responded to his master and bolted with her in the saddle. Trees blocked him from her view as the final blades came down with a sickening slash. She couldn’t see it, but she heard it. That sound would haunt her for the rest of her life.

“No!” she screamed, grabbing the reins and trying to steer the horse back to the glade. But Sitron ignored her commands and ran, weaving through the trees with such a speed that she’d never be able to jump without killing herself in the fall. And then who would bring the mirror back?

_Does it even matter?_ a dark part of her whispered as the horse ran on.

Hans was dead.

And nothing in her world mattered.


	24. Chapter 23

The days ran themselves together. She’d stopped counting the hours, stopped noticing the shift of light and dark. She was numb. She barely ate, barely slept. Sitron remained at her side, shared her grief. His hair holding her tears as she cried. The horse’s mane should have been forever wet the amount of tears Anna cried.

Hans was gone.

Left dead in the troll glade.

It was no comfort that he had died a hero. Dead was dead.

No matter how many times she told herself that in the end he had done the right thing, that he had saved the trolls, saved generations of young girls, it didn’t matter to her. It was unbelievably selfish of her, but she realized that she would have ran with him forever if it meant he would still be here with her. She would have forsaken doing the right thing just to keep him a little while longer.

She understood now why so many people did the most horrible, unthinkable things for love. How stealing an innocent baby, or plotting to murder an innocent sister could be justified for the sake of loving someone.

A bitterness seeped into her heart, mingling with her loss. The Westergaards didn’t deserve his sacrifice. None of them did. Hans had spent his entire life unloved, searching for the place he belonged. And he’d only just found it. He belonged in Anna’s arms.

Now he was dead.

Sitron gave a snort, alerting Anna. She dragged herself out of her dark fog to look up at her surroundings. The famed Westergaard palace stood tall and commanding in the distance. She’d once thought it beautiful, now it was an eyesore on the horizon. Sitron was almost home. She grasped the reins and Sitron shot off towards the castle in a hard gallop.

Anna still had one last leg of the quest to make, and she knew that Hans would want her to see it to the finish. She was his hero, she reminded herself as a fresh batch of tears began to fall, though she hadn’t been able to save him from death.

Sitron veered off, and Anna let him. There was no point in pretending she controlled the horse. She was merely a passenger, Hans had communicated whatever it was he had wanted Sitron to do before he fell, and Sitron was loyal to Hans. The horse would take her exactly where Hans had directed.

He led her off the path not far from the palace, into a bit of wooded area. The climb up the cliff had a few spots of sparse trees and bushes dotting the landscape. It was enough to keep them hidden, and not so steep that Sitron had trouble moving off the beaten path. She wondered how many times the horse had been this route to be so sure footed. Probably often.

She could almost imagine a much younger, ganglier Hans sneaking off to escape the torment of his siblings through secret passages that only he’d bothered to discover and map. His own private world hidden within the prison of his life here in the palace. How exhilarating it must have felt the first time he discovered the unused and forgotten servant’s exit. Knowing that he could be free at a moment’s notice without anyone the wiser.

Sitron stopped, his body pointing towards the rockface. Anna dismounted. It wasn’t until she inspected the foliage, broken wood and rubble that she discovered the metal door behind it, rusted and frail with age. Hans had done well hiding the exit, a bit of a handyman fixing the rubble to the door for better camouflage. She found a handle after searching and gave it a tug, the metal groaning against her weight as it pulled open a bit from the stone. She yanked on the door until she had pried it open enough to squeeze through. It was dark and dank.

Hans would know how to navigate it in the dark, but she would not. She turned to Sitron, fishing through his packs for the matches and the broken mirror. Finding both, she put the mirror down and lit the lantern Hans kept fastened to Sitron’s pack. She unhooked the lantern, tucking the matches into her bodice beside Hans’s dagger, and bent to retrieve the mirror.

Sitron nickered gently, his head nuzzling her arm. “We’ll see this through,” she whispered to the horse, petting him softly. “For him.”

Anna squeezed through the small opening and made her way into the dark tunnel. She didn’t really want to close the door behind her, but she felt this was the safest thing to do. Leaving it open could attract attention. There was no sense in giving anyone the opportunity to find a passage leading straight into the palace. She reefed on the door with all her might, pulling it closed.

She gave a nervous laugh when all sources of daylight were snuffed out and she was left with only the circle of light from the lantern. It was nothing compared to being in the eastern woods. Nothing at all to being in the troll glade at night. Anna stepped forward. Her fears behind her. This was just a tunnel. She didn’t even jump when something cold dripped on her from above.

This was Hans’s safe place. His sanctuary and domain. She could almost feel him envelope his arms around her, the weight of his hand in hers. “I miss you,” she said aloud in the dark, almost straining to hear his voice just one last time. The only answer she received was the slow, steady drip of water droplets splashing against the rock floor.

She made her way up the tunnel, the slight incline very gradual until she could see a stone wall ahead. A dead end? She glanced back nervously. She was certain she hadn’t missed the turn Hans had mentioned in his instructions. She kept on going forward. The path veered off into two very narrow paths upon hitting the wall. The left had a crude set of stairs, the right, just a long ground level path.

The left path up the stairs would lead her into Hans’s room. The stairs looked dubious, but if Hans travelled them, they must be safe. She held the lamp up, and upon closer inspection she could see where recent repairs had been made. Some steps were new planks of wood, other’s age worn. Taking a deep breath, she began her ascent up the stairs and into the palace.

Her legs ached the higher she climbed, and she began to fear she would never reach her destination before her legs gave out. Now she regretted the days of eating so little. She barely had the strength to stand, let alone climb the steep steps. Only once she sat down to catch her breath for several minutes, not wanting at all to continue climbing. Nevertheless, she pressed on.

She climbed the endless number of stairs until finally the stairs ended, evening out into a hallway. And there at the end was a thin strip of light along the floor shining in from under the exit.

End in sight, she hurried to the end of the hall, and burst through the secret doorway into the stillness of Hans’s empty study. She closed the passage way behind her, taking in her surroundings. It was a sparse room, tidier than she imagined, aside from a very messy writing desk. She noticed the carved horse sitting on the desk amidst the jumble of books and maps, inkpots and pens. She put the lantern down on the desk to reach for the wooden animal, a sad smile on her lips seeing the familiar, sloppy name painted on the horse’s belly. _Hans_.

New tears pricked her eyes as she moved to one of the two doors in the room; unsure which was his bedchamber and which was the exit to the hall. She turned the first doorknob and bit back a cry of grief when his scent assaulted her nostrils. Still holding the carved horse, she stepped over the threshold and into his bedchamber. Everything smelled like him, and Anna was overcome with renewed mourning.

She was so tired, so empty, so heartbroken. Her eyes hurt from crying. Her limbs ached in exhaustion. She held the Queen Dowager’s mirror in one hand, Hans’s carved horse in the other, knowing she still had a job to do. But she couldn’t bring herself to move from his room. If she did, she would never get to smell his scent again. Sandalwood would never smell the same, not when it wasn’t mixed with him. She needed to remember every tiny detail about him, scared that if she forgot, a part of him would be lost forever. A memory she could never reclaim.

She opened the drawer on his bedside table and placed the mirror inside, sliding the drawer shut. Still clutching the wooden horse, she crawled into his bed and wrapped herself up in his blankets, in his scent, and for the first time in days, drifted off into a heavy sleep.

* * *

She was barely awake, trapped in that narrow place between dreams and daylight. Lulled to stay sleeping or goaded to wake up. It could go either way. A gentle hand grazed her forehead, stroking her bangs, and she could feel the weight of another body beside her in the bed.

“Hans!” Anna sat upright, turning towards the person occupying the space on Hans’s bed. The eyes she met were not his vibrant green, but familiar, soft, icy blue ones. The form beside her not masculine and impossibly long limbed, but delicate and pale. “Elsa!” she gasped her sister’s name like a prayer and threw herself into Elsa’s waiting arms.

“Imagine my surprise finding you here.” Elsa chuckled, hugging Anna tightly. “The last thing I expected when I sent out my latest snowgie was to have it come back and tell me you were right here in the palace, sleeping away.”

“I’m sorry,” Anna choked out an apology, pulling out of her sister’s grasp, and sniffing away tears. “I should have come to you right away—”

Elsa shook her head. “You were exhausted, Anna. Not a single one of us could rouse you, and I even gave you a good, hard shake. You needed sleep, so we let you.” Elsa stared at her, her eyes trained intently on Anna’s red rimmed, tear-soaked gaze. Elsa’s features were etched with worry. “It’s obvious you’ve been through an ordeal.”

“Hans is gone,” she cried, collapsing back into her sister’s arms. Elsa’s arms enveloped around her, holding her tight.

“It’s okay,” Elsa soothed. “We knew there was always a chance the witch would claim him—”

“No!” Anna sobbed. “He’s dead!”

Elsa stiffened. “Dead? He can’t be. The witch needs him; under the curse he can’t die.”

Anna shook her head. “He wasn’t under the curse anymore.”

“You…you broke it?” Elsa sounded shocked.

Anna could only nod before more tears fell. She heaved in a breath, her body shuddering. “I loved him and now he’s dead.”

Elsa gasped, her face contorting in sympathy. “Oh, Anna.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Anna sobbed as everything tumbled forth, all the secrets and things she vowed she wouldn’t say to Elsa. It was impossible to think that she could ever keep any secrets from her sister. “I’m so sorry I disappointed you. I loved him, really, really loved him, and he loved me! I can only imagine what you must think of me.”

“No, no, no,” Elsa shushed her gently, hugging her even tighter than before. “Never apologize for love. Never. You saved me with love, remember? There was always a chance, and I knew that.”

“And it fits with everything we learned of the curse,” Grete’s voice added softly from across the room.

Anna hadn’t even realized the other woman was there. Anna looked up to see Grete nestled in an overstuffed chair, nursing a baby. Relief washed over her seeing that both Grete and her baby were safe. Even if the witch did get a hold of the baby, the trolls would not want the infant. Hans gave his life in order to keep this tiny, pink bundle in the queen’s arms safe.

“Your baby,” Anna started.

“Yes.” Grete smiled proudly. “She’s safe and sound. I apologize for the intrusion. I realize that this is a private moment that you don’t want me here for.”

Anna shook her head. “No, it’s okay, you didn’t know. And he was your brother-in-law. Someone in his family should know that he…” The words stuck in her throat. “Passed.”

Elsa was hugging her again. “I’m so sorry, Anna. I always suspected there was something still there between you two, I just didn’t realize—I should have been more supportive.”

“Anyone at the ball could see it, really,” Grete added with a comforting smile. “A Southern Isles Prince would never bow in such a way, he nearly shocked us all silly with such a display, and the way you two danced…” Grete sounded wistful. “Well, it was nothing short of romantic, even if neither of you were aware of it at the time.”

Anna smiled a little, finding comfort in their words. “He wasn’t so bad in the end, Elsa. He knew what was most important, and even at the cost of his life, he did what was right.” Anna moved away from her sister, reaching for the night table drawer to retrieve the Queen Dowager’s mirror. She held up the wrapped mirror for Elsa and Grete to see. “And we were able to get this back.”

Both Grete and Elsa gaped in surprise at the wrapped mirror.

“Is that what I think it is?” Grete asked, her eyes wide. She turned to Elsa excitedly. “Elsa, you won’t have to fight them!”

The sigh of relief from Elsa was audible. It was no surprise to anyone that Elsa abhorred using her powers for violence, and for the first time since the ball, Anna looked at her sister. Really looked at her. Her face still displayed the pleasant serenity that was Elsa, but her eyes told a different story. Elsa looked haunted, haggard, and even afraid.

The things she must have had to do in Anna’s absence to protect Grete and her baby, to protect the kingdom, the people—Anna had been the luckier one. Off with Hans, alone in the eastern woods, she hadn’t had to battle the witch or the brothers as often as Elsa had.

When Anna had faced off against the witch, it wasn’t even in person, it was through Hans, and that had been awful enough. Elsa had been facing her physically, head on, person to person. And it was wearing on her; the guilt and the anguish was all too apparent in Elsa’s eyes.

And of course, Elsa had to be scared. Elsa had finally met another person who could wield ice magic, and instead of finding a kindred spirit, she had found a wicked heart and witnessed the terrible atrocities that could be done with such power.

“You won’t ever be like that woman,” Anna reassured.

“Oh, Anna!” Elsa broke down, now collapsing into Anna’s arms. “It’s been awful! I keep thinking…I keep thinking—”

“Shhhhh,” Anna hushed. “It’s okay. You know you aren’t like that. You did what you did because you had no choice. You had to protect everyone, and you did.”

Elsa was nodding, her body still shuddering in Anna’s arms. “I didn’t want to send you away! I needed you here so badly, but—but—”

“I know,” Anna soothed. “I know, but you did the right thing, okay?” She pulled away to grip her sister’s shoulders and make Elsa look her in the eye. “Elsa, you made the right decision. She doesn’t have Hans anymore, she’s permanently weakened. We have the mirror, and soon she won’t have any of them under her command. It’ll be just her. She’ll be alone, but you won’t be. I’m here now. I’m back, and we’ll do this together.”

Elsa was fishing a handkerchief from her sleeve, nodding and trembling, and Anna cast a look at Grete. Grete looked fidgety and worried, as if she thought Anna would ask her directly what Elsa had had to do the past week to keep everyone safe.

Elsa’s greatest fear had always been hurting people. She’d spent most of her life thinking she was a danger and a threat to those around her, proving multiple times when she’d accidentally harmed Anna, that she was. It was only within this past year that Elsa was learning to forgive herself, learning to control her vast powers. It was unfortunate that Elsa would have to be pit against someone as ruthless as the witch, facing off against the exact thing she feared becoming the most.

But, hadn’t Anna faced the very thing she had feared and come away better for it? It was only a few days ago the witch had made her relive her past with Hans. She’d had to confront her demons, her feelings, everything, and in doing so, she found herself again, even discovering new facets of herself.

Anna straightened her shoulders. There was still work to be done. Losing Hans had been tragic. She didn’t think she’d ever recover from that pain, but there would be time to continue her grieving after they had saved the Southern Isles. Hans would want her to finish what they had started. He had believed in her. At his core, he had been a good man, and Anna could not, would not, let his sacrifice go to waste.

“Let’s finish this once and for all,” Anna said with new resolve, climbing out of the bed. She unwrapped Hans’s cravat from the mirror. The curse would end today. She would make sure of it.


	25. Chapter 24

They made it as far as the hallway when the temperature suddenly dropped. Elsa went visibly tense, ice magic dancing in anticipation at her finger tips. Grete clutched her child closer to her breast. Anna shivered as frost began to crawl along the hallway towards them.

“Get back in the room,” Elsa instructed severely. Her eyes narrowed and focused on the figure who appeared at the end of the hall. “She’ll be more dangerous, like an animal trapped in a corner now.”

The witch had arrived, and looking significantly older than she had when Anna had first seen her at the ball, but Elsa was right. The woman looked completely unhinged now, capable of anything through desperation.

“We have to get the mirror to Vilhelm’s mom,” Grete said quietly. “Elsa, if we can get past her and reach the north wing, we can return the mirror to the Queen Dowager within minutes.”

“That’s not a risk we can take right now,” Elsa replied back, her eyes never wavering from the witch. “Get back in the room where it’s safe.”

“The passage!” Anna whispered. “Grete and I can take the passage in Hans’s study.”

“Passage?” Grete asked, shifting the baby in her arms. Then she gave a small chuckle. “So that’s how he did it all these years. We’d all thought maybe he really was a changeling, disappearing at will.”

“Go!” Elsa replied urgently. “And mind the brothers. We’ve not seen any of them yet. I will head to the north wing and meet you as soon as I’m able.”

Anna grabbed Grete by the arm and led her back to Hans’s study, locking the door behind them. She wasted little time, relighting the lantern and sliding the passage door open.

“Amazing.” Grete marvelled. “Imagine, all this time the castle has had these hidden here.”

“Wait,” Anna said, going over to the window and opening it wide. Grete gave her a puzzled look and Anna shrugged. “It worked last time to misdirect.”

“I don’t think anyone would believe I climbed the ledges and balconies with a baby in my arms, but I suppose under desperate circumstances, I would try.”

She followed Anna to the passageway, and the two women disappeared into the darkness, with Anna sliding the door shut. They made their way quickly down the many flights of stairs, adrenaline aiding Anna’s speed and making her alert. Wary.

What if the four brothers had caught up to her? Had tracked Sitron to the secret entrance? What if they were in here heading up, while she and Grete were heading down?

Panic laced up Anna’s spine. She could be leading them straight to their deaths.

Except the more Anna thought about it, the more something didn’t make sense. The brothers didn’t sleep, but Sitron most certainly had. They should have caught up with Anna well before she had ever reached the palace. They should have been right on her tail the moment she’d fled the eastern woods; the moment Hans had fallen.

Except they hadn’t.

Maybe with Hans gone, they’d had no reason to follow her. To her knowledge, she’d only been targeted because of her connection with Hans. The witch had wanted her dead in order to break their bond and reclaim Hans’s heart. But Hans’s death had changed all that, changed how much of a threat Anna was. Hans hadn’t just saved generations of girls. He’d saved her too.

As far as she knew, no one knew she had the mirror. Neither of the four brothers knew what she and Hans had been doing in the glade, the mirror had been long wrapped up before they had arrived. Anna wasn’t sure they would even know what the mirror was. It wasn’t as if they’d react as Hans had seeing it. Only his shard of glass had been returned to the frame.

Panting, she and Grete reached the bottom of the stairs, and Anna hesitated. Did she take Grete out of the passageway or continue down the untested path? Anna conferred with Grete over the dilemma.

“We have to get the mirror to the Queen Dowager,” Grete stated. “If this path leads us out of the castle and out onto the cliff, I don’t know how to get us back in the palace undetected.”

“But if this other path leads to nowhere, we are wasting time, and leaving ourselves open for ambush.”

Grete ran her hand over her face, the baby in her arms squirming in discontent. “We are so close to finally bringing this whole awful mess to an end, and I don’t know what we should do. I don’t know what the right course of action to take is.”

“How well do you know the entire castle?” Anna asked.

Grete smiled wryly. “Well, until I learned of secret passages, I’d thought quite well.”

“If we go down this path and find an exit, you’d be able to recognize where we are?”

“Most certainly.”

Anna had made up her mind. “Let’s go then. This path must lead to somewhere.”

Her chest ached for Hans. He would have known what led to where. He would have taken her hand firmly in his and led her most assuredly to where ever was the best place to be. Hans would have had a plan in mind—whether it was a good one or not. Hans had always had a plan.

They ventured down the righthand path, both she and Grete confident that they were on the main floor of the palace.

“Let’s see,” Grete was mumbling to herself. “Hans lived in the far west wing, and the passage led south east…and if this is the main wall, which it has to be, eventually we’ll hit the main entrance…”

“If we can reach the main entrance, we can reach the main hall which breaks off to the stairs to all the wings.”

“Exactly,” Grete replied. “Straight up the main staircase to the north wing. The Queen Dowager should be in her parlour, taking her coffee about now.”

The two continued on, searching for anything that might reveal an exit from the passageway. It was tedious without instructions on where to go or look, but Anna focused on looking for any thin slits of light near the floor that would indicate an exit.

“I see light,” Anna said finally, hurrying towards the spot ahead. Sure enough, it was a door, and Anna held her breath as she slid the panel open just a crack.

The room was a parlour, and as far as Anna could tell, it was empty. She slid the panel open further, cautiously ducking her head out of the passageway to peak inside the room.

Quiet. Empty of people.

“Its clear.” Anna stepped out from the passageway, motioning for Grete to stay put. “Let me check the door leading out.” Anna quickly dashed towards the door, pressing her ear up to the wood to listen. When she could hear no sounds from outside, she crouched down to peek through the keyhole as an extra measure. “I think we’re good.”

Grete stepped out of the passageway, sliding the panel closed behind her. “This is the main parlour, it exits to the main hall.” She breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying towards Anna. “Not much further now.”

Anna turned the knob and they exited into the main hall. It was no longer covered with mounds of snow, like it had been when Anna and Hans had travelled through here, fleeing the palace, but the area showed wear and lots of water damage. Up ahead, Anna could see the vast staircase leading up to the living quarters.

She and Grete hurried along as quickly and as quietly as they could. The baby fussed in Grete’s arms, sounding far louder in the vast, empty space. The cranky mewls echoed throughout the hall. Grete gently rocked her baby, her steps quickening. She gave Anna a worried look.

If the baby cried, someone would hear her. They had to hurry. Had to make it to the Queen Dowager’s quarters before that happened. If the witch was inside, it was safe to assume that somewhere in the palace were the brothers as well.

They were almost at the staircase when the sound of a great door unlatching behind them made them both stop dead in their tracks.

Someone was entering the palace from the outside.

Grete drew in a panicked breath. “That should be locked. Only royalty—” her eyes grew wide with terror. Anna didn’t need her to finish. She knew who was at the door.

Westergaard men.

She looked up at the staircase. Too many stairs. Even if they ran up the steps, they’d still be seen and caught when the brothers entered. Anna frantically took in their surroundings, searching for anywhere they could hide in the barren hallway.

“Over here! Quick!” Anna pulled Grete by the arm towards a decorative side table displaying a collection of vases by the stairs. Yanking the table cloth up, she all but shoved Grete and the baby underneath, before squeezing in herself. The two women huddled together in the cramped space, not daring to even breathe.

The main door came open with a great bang and a series of footsteps marched down the hall towards them.

A small whine erupted from the baby, and Grete immediately clutched the child to her chest to try and quiet the little bundle down.

The footsteps halted.

Anna drew in a breath.

“Did you hear something?” one brother asked, and Anna recognized his voice as Stefan’s.

The room went eerily quiet, save for soft footsteps, fanning apart in different directions. Anna cocked her head, straining to listen. The three remaining brothers from the forest had returned.

_No. Not three_.

Anna paused, detecting a fourth set of footfalls. Four princes. The one Hans had stabbed through the heart must have recovered. Elsa had said that under the curse they could not die. Grete was visibly shaking beside her. Anna placed a comforting hand atop Grete’s as a pair of boots neared the table they were hiding under.

Anna bit her lip, willing herself to stay quiet, to stay steady, willing Grete and the baby to do the same. The Westergaard stood so close to the table that Anna could see the tips of his boots poking out underneath the tablecloth. His body quickly jerked straight up at attention, as though he’d heard something, the table cloth swaying from his sudden movement.

_This is it_ , Anna thought, wishing she’d been smart enough to at least have armed herself with her dagger before they had hidden. She’d fight anyway, she decided, preparing herself for the inevitable confrontation.

“She calls,” the brother said before abruptly marching away from the table and up the staircase, followed by three more sets of boots dropping in line behind him. Anna listened to the boots marching up the staircase until they disappeared altogether, only a faint echo down the west hall.

_Where Elsa is_.

Elsa was going to have to contend with the witch and some of the brothers.

Anna steeled herself, and crawled out from under the table. “Come on,” she said to Grete as she held out a hand to help her up. “Elsa needs us to get this to the Queen Dowager _now_.” She clutched the mirror tighter in her other hand, and ran for the staircase. Anna wasn’t sure how much more fighting Elsa could take before doing something rash that she might later regret. The fighting had already taken its toll on Elsa’s psyche, and Anna could not let her endure the mental anguish anymore.

They reached the north wing without any interruption. Grete hurried ahead of Anna, knowing exactly where to go. She ran to a room, throwing open the door and practically shouting, “Your Majesty! We found your mirror!”

Anna rushed into the room behind Grete, holding the mirror out to the Queen Dowager, who sat in the middle of the room at a small table and chair, looking startled and confused. The woman nearly dropped her coffee cup at the site of Grete and Anna.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” the Queen Dowager suddenly sobbed, her hands covering her face in anguish as the door behind them closed with a deliberate bang.

Anna whirled around at the sound, inhaling sharply at the sight of an imposing man standing at the closed door.

“Vil!” Grete cried, recognizing her husband in front of the door. “Oh _no_!”

More brothers slunk out of their hiding spots in the Queen Dowager’s parlour. Every direction Anna looked, a frozen Westergaard stood. The witch had known what Anna was up to and had prepared for it.

Anna and Grete had been so preoccupied with getting the mirror to the Queen Dowager that they had walked right into an ambush. The remaining eight Westergaards surrounded her and Grete. Two of the eight had already moved between Anna and the Queen Dowager. Anna clutched the mirror for dear life. Somehow, she had to get the mirror into the old woman’s hands.

“Vil, please,” Grete begged as the men slowly started to encircle them. “You don’t want to do this.”

Anna pulled the dagger from her bodice, unsheathing it clumsily while still holding the mirror. She could feel Grete tense as they stood back to back. She pointed the dagger outwards towards the men. A few chortled in amusement. The dagger was a pretty paltry weapon against men that couldn’t die, but if she could aim for the heart, like Hans had in the glade, then maybe she could take at least one of the brothers down for a bit, giving her enough time to reach the Queen Dowager.

Only Anna had no idea how to do that. She doubted she’d get very far at all with that plan. She’d be plucked off her victim by another from behind in no time.

She couldn’t give up now. She was so close to finishing this. Anna stared at the mirror in her hand. The horrible thing divided amongst the divided brothers. All except for a single shard of mirror glass glinting in the light. Hans’s shard.

_‘We’ve always been encouraged to be competitive with each other. Pit against each other to garner favour.’_

Hans had once told her that about his family, and as Anna stared at the broken mirror, an idea began to form. She didn’t _need_ to fight any of them. All she needed was an opportunity to reach the Queen Dowager with the mirror; a single, sole second to get the mirror into the Queen Dowager’s hand.

“He was better than all of you,” she said quietly. “All of you put together, and he was still a better man. Superior, even, I’d say.”

“Who, dear?” the Queen Dowager asked from behind her sons, and Anna was thankful someone in the room had taken the bait.

“Hans,” Anna stated simply. “Anyone under a curse is always their own best chance at breaking it. _Everyone_ knows that.” She stood fiercely, facing the brothers that stood between her and the Queen Dowager. “Your ‘ _useless, baby brother_ ’ accomplished something not a single one of you could do. He broke free of his curse.” She whirled around to face Grete and King Vilhelm. “Hans did something that even the _King_ of the Southern Isles could not do. So how does that feel, _Your Majesty_?”

“Anna—” Grete cautioned, the fear apparent in her voice.

But Anna looked directly at Vilhelm. “How does it feel to be a king bested by your own little brother? That’s _your_ baby right there in _your_ wife’s arms, and you don’t even care. _Your_ daughter. _Your_ heir. And _your_ weak, talentless little brother was the one to save her. He’s her hero. Not you.” She turned abruptly, seeking out Aksel, her eyes boring into his. “I know _you_ don’t like it. You couldn’t even handle him winning a horse race.” She turned to find Ulrik and Georg. “You two, wouldn’t you rather be gambling? Whoring? Indulging to the nines, and pretending that you don’t care how inferior you are? That’s why you do it, isn’t it? To escape knowing how close you were to the crown? That you’re just the spares?” Lastly, she turned to Lennart. “And you?” She gave her sharpest smile. “Well, I guess we finally know for sure that you are in fact inferior to Hans. He’s even the better dancer.”

It took only a moment for the powder keg of anger, jealousy, and competitiveness that was the Westergaard brothers to ignite. Lennart and Aksel lunged at her, followed by Georg and Ulrik. Anna waited, biding her time, dropping to the ground at the last second as the four bodies collided in rage. Turning on each other in an instant, blaming the other for interfering, all with Anna safely crawling out from between a set of legs, forgotten.

Three more brothers jumped into the fray, seeming to forget why they were even in the room in the first place now that a superiority brawl had started with each brother feeling the need to prove something. Seven Westergaards all squabbling like petulant children while Vilhelm stood immobile, facing his wife and daughter, giving Anna a clear path to the Queen Dowager. She only had a moment before the brothers would realize what she had done in diverting their attention from her.

“Your Majesty,” Anna cried rushing towards the frazzled woman, holding the mirror out to her, “Your mirror.”

To Anna’s horror the Queen Dowager shrank away from the object, repulsed. “That’s _not_ my mirror! Get that filthy thing away from me.”

“It _is_ your mirror!” Anna insisted, shoving the mirror at the Queen Dowager while the woman backed away from her. “Take it, and end this now!”

“I’ll not touch such a disgusting thing! I insist you clean it first!”

“Are you kidding me!” Anna snarled, suddenly ready to beat this insufferable woman senseless with her stupid mirror. She did not have time for this! Any second and any of the brothers could come after her. In a fit of rage, Anna rushed the Queen Dowager, pummeling the woman to the ground. She grabbed one of the Queen Dowager’s arms, trying to pry the woman’s fingers open so she could grasp the mirror. All while the Queen Dowager tried to fight her off.

“Oh! You beastly child!” the Queen Dowager shrieked as she kicked and slapped at Anna. “The devil take you!”

“Take your mirror, you miserable, old bat!” Anna shouted in frustration as she forced the mirror handle into the Queen Dowager’s hand, curling her hand over the Queen Dowager’s hand and forcing her fist closed so the Queen Dowager gripped the mirror firmly in her palm.

The bedlam in the room came to an abrupt halt, silence filling the air. Anna drew in a breath as she watched the mirror face fill with glass. Shard after shard, joining together seamlessly with the one shard that had been Hans’s until the mirror was complete once more, finally restored.

King Vilhelm was the first to speak, his voice befuddled and soft, “Grete? Is that—”

“—Yes!” Grete sobbed, and Anna turned to see Grete fold into her husband’s arms with their daughter.

King Vilhelm smiled fondly, captivated by the tiny, pink bundle nestled between himself and his wife. “My daughter.” He marvelled in wonder before looking up at Grete as though he was seeing her for the first time, and gave her a squeeze. “ _Our_ daughter.”

The Westergaard brothers had been restored.

A throat cleared awkwardly behind her, and Anna turned to see a hand held out towards her.

“My lady,” Ulrik said as Anna gingerly took his hand. “Allow me to help you up from the floor. It is the very least any of us can do for you. We are all deeply indebted.”

Georg was already helping the Queen Dowager up. She was miserable and fussing, batting his arms in contempt. Anna thought she ought to apologize to the horrid woman for the way she had behaved; knocking a former queen to the ground in a tackle was highly unladylike. But Anna couldn’t find the words or the sincerity for such an apology. As far as Anna was concerned, the woman had gotten what she deserved.

Instead, Anna stood up, and looked around the room. Satisfied to see each brother bewildered, but free of the witch’s curse. Or bargain, really. Hans’s parents were truly awful human beings. So many lives had been forfeited all for a few riches. They had given up their family for the sake of wealth and power.

And as Anna looked at Grete and Vilhelm cooing over their baby, she really had to wonder how anyone could give up their child without a second thought for such pathetic reasons.

A deafening screech from the hallway broke Anna’s thoughts.

She stiffened at the sound. “Elsa!”

Anna bolted for the door and heard the flurry of footsteps follow after her, swords being drawn. An army of princes at her back. Anna raced at top speed to the west wing of the castle, skidding to a halt when she reached her sister and the witch.

It took only a moment for Anna to assess the situation, and see that her sister was in no physical danger. Elsa had managed to wall off the four Westergaards that had gone to aid the witch. Anna could hear the restored men pounding against the thick slabs of their ice prison, shouting to be freed.

The witch no longer held any of her youthful appearance, now a crumpled and wretched old hag, bent down on the ground. Her breathing was laboured as Elsa stood above her, hands raised, magic swirling, ready to give the final blow.

“Elsa!” Anna shouted, running towards her just as Elsa’s eyes met hers. “It’s over! She can’t hurt anyone anymore!”

“Finish it!” the witch snarled, her words causing Elsa to turn her attention back to the woman at her feet. “I’ll only try again, snow queen. You know this. Everyone you love is in danger.”

Anna shook her head fiercely, intercepting her sister, risking her back at the witch. She grabbed Elsa’s wrists and stood directly between Elsa and the witch. She met Elsa’s fearful gaze with her own solid one. “You aren’t like her. Don’t let her convince you that you are.”

Elsa swallowed hard, nodding slightly, tears in her eyes as she stared back at Anna. Anna breathed a sigh of relief as the swirling chill of Elsa’s magic faded from her hands and she stepped back, away from the witch, and finding herself again.

“Arrest this woman,” King Vilhelm commanded, but before anyone could move, the witch acted. In the blink of an eye, she turned her magic onto herself, and froze solid before them.

The witch did not freeze in a perfect sculpture like Hans had frozen, or the way Anna had been told she had frozen a year ago.

Before them all stood a gnarled and hideous shape of sharp angles, icicles and frost jutting out dangerously and unpleasantly in a shape that hardly resembled a human at all.

Elsa gasped in horror, her hands covering her mouth in shock and sorrow. “She put ice in her own heart and froze herself.”

Anna didn’t know what to say. So, she did what she was best at.

Acting with her heart.

She wrapped her arms around Elsa, and drew her into a hug, facing her sister away from the awful, frozen form of the witch. She didn’t want Elsa to ever have to see that woman again. She felt Elsa’s teardrops splash hot and wet onto her neck and shoulders, and she hugged Elsa tighter, wondering if Elsa had ever reached a point in her life where she had thought to freeze herself.

“You’ll never be like her,” Anna whispered, reassuring her sister while gently stroking her hair. “There is too much love in your heart to ever be like that.”

She felt Elsa nod against her, and Anna knew that it was finally over. The witch couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.


	26. Chapter 25

In the midst of the revelry and celebrations that followed after the defeat of the witch, Anna stared silently at all of them. _His family_. None of them really cared that Hans was gone. Oh sure, they acted sorry, briefly putting on sorrowful expressions in front of Anna, but Anna could see through the lies.

Now they sang his praises, toting him a hero. Vilhelm had even proclaimed they erect a bronze statue in Hans’s honour, but none really mourned their youngest brother’s death. Not really. They just didn’t know how. They had always been a broken family with no sibling affection or comradery. It wasn’t fair to expect it from them now, but Anna sort of did anyway.

It sickened Anna, and she needed to get away from here. Away from all the pretending and posturing. Away from the merriment and celebrating that had overshadowed what should have been a mourning period for a family member.

Liesel had been right, Anna wouldn’t be able to save all thirteen of the Westergaards. Even with the curse lifted, they were still what they were. Still who they had been. Only now, they had the potential to change. The potential to evaluate themselves and their actions and become better people.

At least she had seen hope with Vilhelm. The new Southern Isles king looked at his wife and daughter as though he was seeing something truly wonderful for the first time in his entire life.

Thanks to Elsa. Thanks to Grete. Thanks to Hans. Thanks to Anna.

But Anna’s role in this whole debacle had come to an end.

She didn’t feel like a hero, nor did she enjoy being lauded as one. She had paid a terrible price to free these people who she felt were ultimately unworthy of the gift they had been given. She looked over at Grete, standing beside her husband as he cuddled the baby girl in his arms, cooing softly, but even that wasn’t enough to make Anna smile.

“See?” Elsa said quietly, coming up behind her and placing a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “It wasn’t all for nothing. I know you think they don’t deserve his sacrifice, but just look at Vilhelm with his daughter and Grete. He and Grete had been trying to conceive for over a decade, but he’s always been standoffish and cold. Now look at him, he’s smitten. I don’t think he’d be like that if you hadn’t helped him. They may never fall in love, but I think maybe now they can be good friends, and good parents.”

Anna could barely acknowledge her sister’s words. “I think I just want some time alone. Everyone is too…happy. No one feels his loss at all.”

“Are you sure?” Elsa asked, the strain of worry clear on her face. “It doesn’t feel right to leave you alone—”

“I need some quiet time to gather my own thoughts. Please, Elsa. This whole thing is just…draining.”

Elsa sighed, and it was obvious that she wasn’t keen to leave Anna alone. “The palace gallery is a few doors down, and it’s lovely.” She dipped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Not as lovely as ours, but I know galleries help you clear your head. No one will bother you there.”

Anna gave a small smile for Elsa’s benefit. “I think I will go tour the gallery. Thanks.”

* * *

The gallery was a welcomed silence for Anna, escaping the cacophony of celebrating throughout the rest of the palace.

She wandered the empty gallery aimlessly. Anna desperately missed the familiar paintings at home. Whenever Anna needed to clear her head and find peace, she always sought out Arendelle’s gallery. She knew each and every piece back home by heart. Each painting a comfort to her; often the only companions she’d had growing up. She longed to be back home where she felt safe and assured, surrounded in the tranquility of her own spaces.

It was hard to find comfort or peace of mind in the unfamiliar gallery. She recognized none of the works, none of the people depicted. It was the best the Southern Isles could offer her, and she would make do. She always did. It was why she was here now, roaming the vast, lonely room.

The Southern Isles’ gallery was far more extensive than her own, she noted silently. It appeared less used as well, judging by the way the room was only partially lit. The back disappeared into near blackness, and if Anna decided to venture that far back into the room, she’d need to take a lamp with her. It was unlikely that if the gallery was that popular half of it would be unlit. She surmised that at least she would not be disturbed here for awhile.

_Good_.

Anna needed the quiet and the time to think of Hans. Of what her life could have been with him, and what it was now.

Never one to sit still while she thought, she began to pace the room, pausing every so often at any painting that caught her eye. Looking for solace in the brush strokes of the faces of the strangers who hung on the walls. When she reached the Westergaard family portraits, she almost turned around, unsure if she could bear looking at Hans’s portrait, but at the same time, wanting desperately to find him on the wall.

But when she looked up at the first painting, all thoughts of finding Hans’s portrait were lost. She let out an involuntary gasp as she stared at the imposing, bearded figure in the painting before her. It _was_ Hans, only it wasn’t. The colouring was all wrong. Hans didn’t have ink black hair like his brothers, and his eyes were green, not a cold, unyielding, slate grey. And he didn’t wear a beard either. Yet the massive full-bodied portrait was unmistakeably _Hans_ , right from the natural part of his hair down to his impossibly long, lithe legs.

Confused, Anna looked to the little brass name plate, frowning at the old date and reading aloud to herself, “His Royal Majesty, King Stieg, Aged twenty-four.”

Not Hans, but the former king when he’d been a young man.

Han’s father.

Whatever had made Hans distinctly different in looks from his mother and siblings, had made him a dead ringer for his father. They were almost identical, save for their colouring.

Anna looked back up at the portrait of King Stieg. He stood tall and regal, his facial expression stern. His impeccably groomed beard and slate grey eyes made the expression on his face almost menacing. Cruel, even.

_‘I hate beards, and I’ll never wear one on purpose.’_

Hans had never told her why he hated wearing a beard. Standing in front of his father’s portrait, she now knew why.

He hadn’t wanted to look _anything_ like his father.

It must have been difficult for Hans growing up and looking so much like his father, but never coming close to measuring up to the imposing status of the man. Looking at King Stieg’s portrait, Anna finally understood why Hans had felt he needed to be king so badly. Why the Arendelle crown had been worth more to him than her a year ago. He’d wanted his father’s affection and approval. Something, she imagined, he could only achieve with a crown and a kingdom.

“Such a poor portrait,” a voice behind her spoke.

Anna turned to see the Queen Dowager walking towards her.

“Your Majesty.” Anna curtseyed stiffly and only out of protocol.

The Queen Dowager fanned herself with a lace fan. “Ah, yes, I know you. You’re the plain, unremarkable sister with the poor manners from Arendelle.”

“Princess Anna,” Anna introduced as politely as she could, keeping her comments to herself. It seemed that even with her children restored to her, the Queen Dowager was still a hateful, unpleasant woman.

“I often enjoy a stroll through the gallery,” the Queen Dowager said, holding out her arm for Anna to take. “I suppose you will have to do for company.”

Anna gave a tight smile, and took the woman’s arm, though it was the very last thing Anna wanted to do. “It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”

“ _My_ portraits are this way.” The Queen Dowager steered Anna away from the portrait of King Stieg. “I always took a much better portrait than _him_.”

“Hans looked just like him,” Anna commented, wishing she could leave the gallery. The place brought no comfort to her at all now that she was stuck here with the Queen Dowager.

The Queen Dowager tsked. “The only good thing about that one.”

Anna’s lip curled at the woman’s awful words about Hans, but remained silent.

“No one could accuse me of straying and that he was a bastard.” The Queen Dowager huffed. “Stieg had no choice but to accept him as his own. Couldn’t throw me out into the cold, couldn’t put all the blame on me when that little imp _looked_ _just like him_.” She chortled to herself, an awful, cruel sound. “What an absolute delight it was when the one that looked so much like him turned out to be talentless—an utter disappointment. I never let Stieg forget it either. Never failed to find an opportunity to throw _that_ in his arrogant face!”

Anna nearly tripped on her skirts at the Queen Dowager’s words. That couldn’t be right. Hans’s parents had loved each other. They had to have for Hans to have broken the curse surrounding the trolls. “But I thought you two loved each other.”

“Love?” The Queen Dowager scoffed at the word. “I despised that man right up until the day he died. Why, I’d have danced on his grave if I could have.”

Anna stared at her in shock. If that was true, then the initial curse hadn’t been lifted, and Hans hadn’t been the Westergaard meant to restore the trolls. Which meant Hans had died in vain. They’d gotten it wrong, and Hans had _died_ because of it. She felt faint. She needed air, suddenly the vast gallery was stifling. The man she loved had sacrificed himself, and it had been for naught.

The Queen Dowager laughed loudly; the awful gurgling sound filled the room, echoing to the rafters, still delighting in shocking Anna. “My dear girl, _nobody_ loves a Westergaard.”

_That_ did it.

Anna found her anger hiding amongst her shock and sorrow.

“I’m in love with a Westergaard,” she retorted fiercely. And she always would be, even if Hans was gone.

“Well, you shouldn’t be,” the Queen Dowager replied flippantly with her hideous chortle still on her lips.

Anna straightened up, sick of hearing that phrase even if it wasn’t intentional, and sick of this woman’s horrid company. She understood that the Westergaards had been cursed, their line tainted through generations, but the Queen Dowager had married into the family. This woman was awful without the benefit of a curse, and it sickened Anna.

“So I’ve been told,” she answered, her anger quickly rising. “It still doesn’t change the facts. I love Hans and he loved me. And—” Anna stopped in mid sentence, eyes widening, and repeating her words back to herself in her head. Then again slowly.

_I love Hans…and he loved me_.

_‘Only a Westergaard born of love brought to the glade when the sun is at its highest can restore the trolls.’_

_I love Hans and he loved me._

_‘So how do I find this Westergaard?’ she had asked Liesel._

‘ _You don’t need to find them. Searching is not your part to play.’_

_I love Hans and he loved me._

“Oh my God.” Anna felt weak in the knees. She really needed to sit down, needed to breathe. She raked her hands through her hair. “It was never Hans that was meant to restore the trolls. It was our child!”

“What’s that?” the Queen Dowager asked. “I’ll not recognize any bastards—”

“Oh, shut up!” Anna snapped, trying to thread her thoughts together. She couldn’t think straight with this awful woman nattering in her ear.

“Well, I never!” The Queen Dowager puffed her chest out indignantly, but she promptly shut up.

Anna ignored her, following the thread of thoughts. There was no child. She and Hans hadn’t consummated their love. They were going to, and then they’d been interrupted, and common sense prevailed over passion.

_They_ had been the best chance at breaking the curse, at restoring the trolls, only they had gotten it wrong. Anna groaned in despair. It had never occurred to either of them. They had been so sure that Hans was the one to lift the curse. And he was, only indirectly. As indirectly as Anna was.

Had Liesel known? She must have—no, she _had_ to have. Her cryptic words to Anna about the Westergaard born of love made perfect sense now.

_‘You don’t need to find them. Searching is not your part to play in it.’_

Anna’s part was to be the mother of the Westergaard born of love, while Hans’s part was to be the father.

Liesel had been carefully curating Hans his entire life once she knew what he was meant to be. If he _had_ been meant to be the one who restored the trolls, Liesel would have brought him to the glade at high noon herself when he’d been in the forest as a small, innocent boy. Instead, she’d kept him _away_ from the glade. Why hadn’t Anna realized that?

Terror sunk in.

That meant the trolls were still corrupted. Nothing had been restored.

And Westergaard girls were still in danger. Grete and Vilhelm’s daughter was still in danger.

Anna rubbed her hands over her face trying not to panic. Trying to think of a way this could be fixed. But how could anything be fixed? Hans was dead.

_Think, Anna. Think_.

_Just keep following the thread_.

Liesel was Hans’s protector, his guardian, gently steering him to where he needed to be. Liesel had spent lifetimes watching both of her families crumble to ruin. She’d seen the downfall of both the Westergaards and the trolls. It wasn’t just the witch and the trolls that had been pulling strings, trying to orchestrate events to get their ideal outcomes. Liesel had had her hand in it too. She’d been waiting far too long to break the curse to see it end in vain, especially over a misinterpretation of the information she had given them.

And it wouldn’t have been the first time Liesel had stepped in to keep Hans safe.

Anna was sure of it.

“She saved him,” Anna whispered, reaching the end of the tangled thread of thoughts. “She had to have.”

The Queen Dowager clicked her tongue. “You aren’t making any sense.”

But Anna would not be sidetracked. It hadn’t just been the witch and the trolls involved. And Liesel had intervened on Hans’s behalf before. The more Anna thought about it, the surer she was.

Liesel would not have let Hans die in that glade. Not when they were so close to the finish line.

“He’s alive.” Anna concluded. “Hans is still alive! He _has_ to be!”

“You poor thing.” The Queen Dowager pulled a face. “You’re distraught with grief.”

“No! He’s alive, I know he is!”

“But you saw him fall.”

Anna shook her head. “She wouldn’t let him die, she’s been waiting too long for him—for us—and we never—she wouldn’t let him die without fathering a child!”

“I’m afraid you aren’t making any sense. I shall ring for your sister.”

“Don’t bother,” Anna cried, already rushing towards the exit of the gallery. “I’ll find her myself!”


	27. Chapter 26

It had taken both Elsa and Grete some convincing that Hans was still alive. By the time order in the palace had been restored, everyone knew what Hans had been to Anna, and assumed that she was in the denial stage of her grieving process. Thankfully, and to Anna’s surprise, Vilhelm had stepped in and taken her side. He’d told Elsa that there was no harm in going escorted back to the forest, and that if it was that important to Anna, she could accompany Mikkel and Oscar when they went to retrieve Hans’s body from the glade.

She was sure that the only reason she’d been allowed to go was so that she could come to terms with Hans’s death by actually seeing his remains in person. Elsa had insisted on going with her, knowing that Anna would need her support the most when Anna’s ramblings turned out to be just that.

But Anna wasn’t worried. She already knew there would be no body at the glade, because Liesel had saved Hans. She wasn’t the least bit surprised either when upon entering the eastern woods, she had been mysteriously separated from her party. One minute, she had been riding Sitron beside Elsa, and the next, she was not.

She didn’t bother to look for Elsa or Mikkel or Oscar. Instead, she took Sitron by the reins. “You already know where to go, don’t you?”

Sitron neighed pleasantly, and trotted along through the forest, taking Anna straight to the troll glade, in what could never have been the right amount of time according to her past experiences here. But that was the eastern woods. Always changing.

Sitron stopped just outside the large stone pillars of the glade and Anna dismounted. She stepped lightly into the glade, noticing that Hans was nowhere in sight, but Liesel was.

Liesel sat on the same rock Anna had found her on the first time they had met. She had changed her dress. This time, she wore an elegant, white gown and wreath of rich, red berries in her long hair. She watched Anna approach with those slate grey eyes, the same colour as Hans’s father, but kind instead of cruel.

“Why if it isn’t Princess Anna, what a pleasant surprise.”

Anna gave a curtsey. “I hardly think you’re surprised.”

Liesel grinned a bit mischievously, and very troll-like. “Not really, no.”

“Where is he?” Anna asked, taking her seat on the rock she had sat on before.

“Who, dear?”

“You know perfectly well I’m talking about Hans. I know he’s alive.”

“Are you sure? You saw him fall with your own eyes.”

“Yeah, and I also saw him cut off his brother’s arm and run one of them through, yet they still lived.”

“Hans was never under the protection of your witch’s magic.”

“No,” Anna agreed. “But he was under yours.”

Liesel smiled, a sly twinkle in her eye. “I _knew_ I liked you, Princess Anna.”

“We got your information wrong,” Anna started conversationally. “But you already know that.”

Liesel nodded. “And now?”

“I know what he’s supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be.” Anna paused with a sigh. The weight of the responsibility sinking in. “And it’s—well, it’s a lot of pressure. This would have been so much easier if things had gone perfect when we’d met in Arendelle. We might’ve even already had a child by now.”

“Perfect, maybe, but an illusion of love.”

“What do you mean?”

“Arendelle was painful for you, and I’m sorry that it was. I’m sorry you had to witness him at his absolute worst, but if you hadn’t, he never would have seen _you_ at your absolute best. He never would have seen how powerful true love can be. You were the catalyst, you see, the person that changed everything he knew in one blink of a moment. Your happenstance meeting was just enough to send him careening back onto a path I’d tried in vain to steer him onto as a child.”

“So, it wouldn’t have been true love, if things had worked in his favour in Arendelle, if I’d just chosen him?”

“That’s a very hard thing to determine an outcome for, you already know how mercurial love can be. Who’s to say that even now it’s true love?”

“It is,” Anna answered. “I know it is.”

“Oh ho!” Liesel cackled, amused. “And tell me, little princess, how do you know?”

“I know because I’m here. I know exactly what Hans is. I’ve seen him at his worst, but I’ve also seen him at his best, and none of that matters at all, because when we chose to be together we were better than all of that. And we’re not together despite what we are, but _because_ of what we are. True love isn’t some magical destiny, always stationary. True love is a pact, an agreement between two people, both actively choosing each other over and over again.”

“I’m sure you already realize what a stroke of luck you had in that little interruption at the cottage. I fear things would not be as they are now had I succeeded in my plan.”

It was Anna’s turn to smile. “You wanted us together that night. You knew that if I kissed Hans in the glade it would be enough to make him act on his feelings when he awoke. And you froze him on purpose to get the desired outcome from me—from us both.”

The Troll Wife laughed. “Yes, I tipped the balance. You were both so close before you’d ever happened upon the glade, just needed one tiny, little nudge in the right direction.” She looked up at Anna, eyes twinkling. “I admit it, I wanted you to conceive the child that night! The conditions were right, perfect, in fact—had you two actually gone through with it. I had not banked on him to be so noble after his heart thawed.” She chuckled. “Sweet little Hans, refusing to risk getting you pregnant. Such a thoughtful dear.”

“And if we had made love that night?”

Liesel shrugged vaguely. “I’m not sure I’d have kept him. I am fond of the boy, to be sure—it’s why I cheated in the first place, but it would have been harder knowing he had already played his part. A Troll Wife is not to have strong attachments to anyone or thing, you see. I’ve really stretched my vows with him.”

“Where is he?” Anna asked again. “I know he’s alive, you said it yourself; you’ve waited too long for the chance to set things right, and you’re not above changing the rules and resetting the board.”

“Why, he’s been here in this forest the entire time, sweetie, waiting for you.”

“Where?” Anna asked turning to look frantically outside the glade as if she expected Hans to be standing right there. When she saw nothing of Hans, she turned back to the Troll Wife, only to find the rock she’d been sitting on empty.

_“It’s time to pass your final test now, Princess Anna.”_ Liesel’s voice echoed on the wind.

“You’ve made it too easy,” Anna answered back, already knowing exactly where she’d find him.

_“A test is never hard when you are ready for it.”_

Anna grinned, and left the troll glade quickly, climbing onto Sitron’s back.

“Back to the cottage!” she cried, and the horse responded to the command with gusto.

When the cottage came into sight, Anna jumped down from Sitron, running up the familiar path as fast as she could go. Breathlessly, she threw open the door expecting to see Hans.

Her heart stopped when the room was empty. Of course, he wouldn’t just be standing there. It wouldn’t be _too_ easy. Trolls liked their riddles and puzzles, and Troll Wives liked their games. Anna put her hands on her hips and looked about the room with a sharp eye. It only took her a moment to find him.

“There you are,” she murmured softly.

She strolled over to the bed and bent down to pick him up off of the wrinkled blanket. She held the sad, little, carved figure of a prince gently in her hand. He looked so forlorn and forgotten, all worn with chipped paint from years of neglect. He’d never be forgotten or lost or neglected again, not while she held him.

“I’m sorry you had to wait for me so long,” she said to the little figure. “I know it’s only been a few days, but it feels like an eternity.”

Anna closed her eyes as she brought her lips towards the carved prince. She kissed him softly. The moment she touched her lips to the figure it faded away into nothing.

She could have been blindfolded, never knowing he was the man standing before her, but the minute she was in his arms again, her body recognized him, remembered him.

“I knew you’d come for me.”

She smiled at the sound of his voice, and opened her eyes.

She would always come for him, no matter what.

She loved him.

…And he loved her.


	28. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

_Three years later._

It was almost noon when their royal procession reached the troll glade. The Westergaard royals had arrived before them, and stood grandly, lining the entrance of the glade for the momentous occasion. Each brother bowing deeply as Anna and Hans passed them by, even Lennart, albeit, begrudgingly and in his monk’s robes.

Anna felt Hans squeeze her hand a little tighter, and looked up at her husband with a reassuring smile. Being back on the Southern Isles was difficult for him, and he was unaccustomed to the respect his brothers were now showing him. He’d been overly nervous all morning, and Anna had done her best to calm him. He returned her smile with a less confident one, and all Anna wanted to do was take him aside and kiss him silly until he relaxed.

Hans had chosen to return to Arendelle with Anna and marry her there as per Arendelle customs. Once he’d left the Southern Isles, he had no intention of ever living in his homeland again. The curse had been lifted, but hearts did not change so easily. They needed catalysts, and time. Saving the Westergaards had never been Anna’s task, but saving Hans was. Off the Isles, away from his family and into Anna’s, he thrived.

It didn’t mean that things were perfect between them, and that everything was a happily-ever-after-fairy-tale ending like they had both naively wished for upon their first meeting, but they were happy and they were in love. True love.

Anna knew that she could never change Hans, but that didn’t mean she didn’t help Hans change himself. His love for Anna had made him want to be a better person, a man worthy of love, and the man he wanted to be. Together they had both become better people—better versions of themselves through their love, and in time, they had found that place where they could meet in the middle without it feeling like so much work and effort. Being together came naturally.

King Vilhelm and Queen Grete were waiting for them at the end of the procession line, smiling. Their daughter, Princess Belinda, broke rank and ran on her chubby, little legs up to Elsa jubilantly.

“Auntie Elsa!” The child flung herself into Elsa’s waiting arms. Elsa caught the dear girl with a grin.

“Hello, Belinda. Behaving, I hope?”

The girl stuck out her tongue and shook her head ‘no’.

“That’s my girl.” Elsa grinned.

Elsa had spent a great deal of time between Arendelle and the Southern Isles since the witch had been defeated. She visited with Liesel almost as much as she visited Grete. With the threat of the trolls still looming over the Westergaards, it had been imperative that Elsa meet Liesel and learn how to keep Belinda safe.

But that wasn’t the only reason Elsa went to visit with Liesel as often as she did.

Elsa had finally met someone who could wield ice magic, and not just learned troll ice magic, but true ice magic that she’d been born with. It turned out that Liesel understood Elsa far more than she had let on to Anna, revealing to Anna’s sister that the reason she had wanted to learn magics with the trolls in the first place and become a Troll Wife was because she too, had been born with the power to conjure ice and snow. In Liesel, Elsa had finally found a kindred spirit, someone just like her, and learned a great deal more about her powers.

Elsa had also been made godmother to Belinda, and often chuckled when she was addressed as ‘fairy godmother’ since it was Elsa’s magic that protected Belinda from the Southern Isles trolls until the time came for Hans and Anna to present their child to the troll glade.

And finally, after three years of everyone waiting, Hans and Anna had conceived a child on their own terms, and at their own pace. It had been a strain on their relationship at times, knowing what was expected of them from the Southern Isles, and knowing that in the blink of an eye things could change if they weren’t careful and honest with each other. It was half the reason Hans had stayed away from his homeland as much as he had. Being in Arendelle alleviated some of the pressure that had been placed on their shoulders.

Elsa had been very diplomatic in that regard as well, often fielding persistent questions from the overly anxious Westergaards, who were obviously keen on having their legacy and homeland restored. Anna knew that they meant well, but she and Hans had been more than thankful to let Elsa deal with it.

“Little brother,” Vilhelm greeted with a bow as they approached. “and Princess Anna.”

Grete was less formal, embracing both Hans and Anna. “It’s so good to see you both again.”

“Are you ready?” Elsa asked after all the pleasantries and formalities had been exchanged.

Anna nodded and looked to Hans. He cradled their energetic baby in one arm while holding Anna’s hand in the other, tightly. They entered the troll glade together.

In the very centre of the glade stood Liesel, dressed in an elegant and ethereal gown. She curtseyed. “Crown Princess Anna Westergaard of Arendelle, and Prince Hans Westergaard of Arendelle, it is so lovely to see you both again. I daresay, the two of you have never looked better.”

Hans bowed and Anna curtseyed.

“May we present our daughter, Princess Liesel Iduna Westergaard, a child born of love.” Hans held their daughter out for Liesel and she took the now giggling baby into her arms.

“What a dear, sweet girl,” she murmured, fawning over the baby. “She has her father’s eyes, and her mother’s smile, and is truly a child born of love. Many congratulations to the two of you on the start of your rather large family.”

“Wait, what?” the startled pair asked in unison.

Liesel only grinned that trollish grin of hers, turning away from them to face the centre of the glade with their baby. She held the little princess up in the sunlight. “Let the Westergaard curse born of selfish love finally come to an end with the Westergaard child born of true love.”

Sunlight spilled forth into the glade as though the trees themselves had moved their shadowy canopy away to let the light in. The glade sparkled in bright, white light, flashing so brilliantly that Anna had to shield her eyes.

When the light dimmed to that of plain daylight, the glade looked brand new, and very much the way Anna knew a troll glade should look. Before her she saw a safe, homey place, resonating with kindness and warmth. The air smelled crisp and dry, sunlight seeped in from above, chasing all the harsh darkness and shadows away, replaced with muted, dappled shadows of the tree leaves above.

Gone were the piles upon piles of broken man-made garbage, and gone were the sharp, awful rocks covered in sludge; replaced now by cozy, round boulders covered in soft moss and sparkling crystals. When the trolls awoke tonight, everything would be different. They would be themselves again.

“Everything is as it should be,” Liesel announced with a tone of finality. She brought the baby back to Hans’s waiting arms, and he took his daughter back gently. Liesel stood before Anna, grasping both her hands in her own frail, age-worn hands. “And now, my dear, it is time for us to say good-bye. The way of the Troll Wife ends today with me, the last of a dead tradition. There will be no more girls brought to the glade, no more Westergaards making vows _or_ bargains. No more relationship between human and trolls on the Southern Isles. The trolls have been restored to their former selves, but with all things that have been badly broken, time is the thing that mends the best. Once you leave this glade today, it will never be found again, at least, not in your lifetimes.”

Anna felt Hans tense beside her. “Auntie,” he said, apprehension in his voice. Liesel was the only member of his family who had ever truly loved him, and as Anna looked up at her husband, she could see that he wasn’t ready to let her go.

“Dear, sweet, little Hans,” Liesel began, cupping his face softly. “I could not be more proud of you, my boy. You have grown into everything a Westergaard once was and should be, and you did it without seeking magic or making bargains, but by finding who you were meant to be and where it is you belong. You know where it is you belong, just as you know who your real family is. Sometimes your real family is not the one you are born into, but the one you make yourself. It doesn’t mean those birth bonds are severed, only changed, and given time, maybe transformed into something brand new.” She looped her arm through his. “Come, let us leave the glade and this forest together.” Liesel held out her other arm for Anna to take, and Anna looped her arm through Liesel’s, grasping the woman’s hand. The three walked out of the glade together, side by side, hand in hand.

And with all things strange about the eastern woods, the exit to the woods suddenly appeared just past the last of the Westergaard brothers that had flanked the path to the troll glade. With one final breath and a smile on her face, Liesel stepped out of the eastern woods and disappeared, vanishing to nothing in the sunlight.

In Anna’s hand where Liesel’s had been, Anna found Hans’s little carved princess. She looked to Hans, who was now holding a rather large chunk of cake in his hand, with his little carved prince, good as new, sitting as a cake topper.

“I’m going to need some milk for this,” Hans said wryly, and no sooner had he said the words than a tall glass of milk appeared before him in the grass. Anna laughed, and leaned into him, mindful of the cake as she stood on her tippy toes to steal a kiss.

“That’s chocolate cake, so you’d better be sharing,” she whispered in his ear, and he snickered.

Just then Elsa was heard behind them, exiting the woods. “Is that chocolate I smell? Wait…is my dear brother hoarding _chocolate cake_ from me? He’d _better_ be sharing.”

Anna grinned up at Hans. “Told you.”

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Done and done! Many thanks and much obliged to everyone who read my story and enjoyed it—whether you were a vocal reader with the lovely reviews and messages or a silent one. Your support is very much appreciated and very encouraging. I’m happy to have written a story you felt was worth your time to read until the very end. I look forward to seeing you all again with the next story! —As always, Tam


End file.
